


dahlia's snippet collective for ateez

by suheafoams



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: M/M, all the AUs you've ever wanted in one place, courtesy of twt folk prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-19 08:55:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22875049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suheafoams/pseuds/suheafoams
Summary: the chaotic writer of the seongjoong catboy and red planet fic briefly resurfaces on ao3 to deliver a million different ateez AUs to you!this is going to be where i periodically update with snippets i write on twitter, some self-motivated and others from lovely, creative prompts sent in from twt folk. will be ateez heavy, occasional skz stuff.for easier reading purposes, ill probably be dividing them in 5-10 snippets per chapter, in no particular order.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Kim Hongjoong, Choi San/Park Seonghwa, Jeong Yunho/Park Seonghwa, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang, Kang Yeosang/Park Seonghwa, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, Kim Hongjoong/Song Mingi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 117





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> mmmm didnt really expect to need smth like this but people are very supportive??? so thank you for wanting to read my work even if it's just the small little things i write and spit out into the bird app void 
> 
> you can find me on twt or cc @ suheafoams! thanks for being here  
> (consider following me on twt,, i offer lots of shitposting tweets and funny anecdotes abt my life... or not, your life is yours to live lmao)

**YUNGI STARGAZING**

“Oh wow,” Yunho says softly, after the ball of fire that had nearly killed him turns out to be a disgruntled, young man with rusty red hair and a sour but unsurprised look on his face indicating he’s used to landing on his ass in the terrain of unfamiliar planets. “A falling star.” 

“That’s romantic,” the man says. He’s annoyed, clearly, but that annoyance isn’t directed at Yunho, who’s gotten close enough to the stranger that he can see the saffron colored dust sprinkled across the man’s eyelashes. “Where I’m from, we call it barbecue free fall.” 

**WOOSAN MODEL AU**

A lot of things about San contradict each other, like how his facial features are sharp and distinctly feline while his real personality off camera is so mild it’s almost boring, or how he’s currently shoving a granola bar into Wooyoung’s cheek while still making sure the plastic edges don’t cut Wooyoung’s skin. 

“Is this your attempt at sabotage and making sure I don’t do well in the casting call?” Wooyoung asks. “Pretending to be a nice guy probably works on everyone else for you, doesn’t it?” 

“You haven’t eaten for the last fourteen hours,” San says, gently, as he grabs Wooyoung’s hand, pointedly not mentioning the way Wooyoung’s hands are shaking from fatigue, and Wooyoung doesn’t know why a mere observation makes the back of his eyes start to burn. “You think I haven’t noticed?” 

**YEOSANG JONGHO TOOTHBRUSH**

“Are you still mad?” Yeosang asks, draping himself across Jongho’s shoulders like a cat claiming his napping spot for the night, as if Jongho will welcome him with open arms after the abominable deed Yeosang has done. 

“I’m going to be mad for the next ten years, you weirdo,” Jongho says. “You have to be some sort of deep sea creature, to be paying so little attention that you’d go and use _my_ toothbrush, which is reserved for _my_ teeth _._ ” 

“Is it that bad when we already kiss and do things like suck each other’s—” 

“Do _not_ finish that sentence,” Jongho says, flaring his nostrils, and Yeosang just grins at him lazily in victory. 

**SEONGJOONG AS STRANGERS ON A ROAD TRIP**

Seonghwa is so used to his consistently unremarkable one-man road trips spitting up nothing in terms of self discovery that he’s learned to just enjoy the smaller novelties, like the momentary excitement of walking into a coffee shop he’s never visited before or the way the beach still lingers in his shoes in the form of sand that never completely gets out until weeks later. 

That’s why, when he’s approached and asked to offer company by a pretty man with wide, bright eyes and a nose so dainty that he looks like some sort of forest fairy, Seonghwa just tilts his head in confusion, because no one in his personal life has been able to make time for him these days, and it seems a little unbelievable that a complete stranger would be willing to put forth that kind of effort. 

“Why the hesitation?” the man, _Hongjoong_ , he’d introduced himself earlier as, says. “Afraid I’m going to kill you? You’re the type of person whose kindness seeps out of you even when you’re not speaking, so I’ll spare you from that kind of harm.” 

“That’s not very reassuring,” Seonghwa says, though he’s already made his decision, and it’s like Hongjoong knows, because he simply bumps Seonghwa in the hip and tugs him in the direction of their first destination. 

**SEONGJOONG RAIN**

Seonghwa sighs when he sees how hard it’s pouring, water droplets hitting the ground with such force that they bounce up several feet in the air, and laments the fact that he hadn’t checked his weather app more diligently this morning before rushing off to his exam, which he’d probably bombed anyway. 

“Wanna share?” a voice says, dully, from next to him, and Seonghwa’s eyes nearly fall out of their sockets when he sees that it’s student president Hongjoong who’s making the offer, because Hongjoong is the sort of person who’s way too smart and icy for Seonghwa’s puny brain to even try and keep up with. 

“Really?” Seonghwa says, with a nervous smile. “It’s okay, I would just slow you down.” 

“I don’t mind if you’re the one who holds it,” Hongjoong says, pushing up his glasses with his thumb. He’s really cute, like this, and Seonghwa bites his lip. “Offer ends in 3, 2—” 

Seonghwa slips under the umbrella before Hongjoong can finish counting down, taking the hooked handle of the umbrella from Hongjoong’s small hand and holding it so that rain won’t touch any part of Hongjoong, not even his backpack. “Thank you,” he says, and Hongjoong just looks the other way as they walk. 

**SEONGJOONG SWEATER**

“How many times have I told you not to wear my clothes?” Seonghwa says, when he comes home from work and finds Hongjoong curled up on the couch in one of his thick turtleneck sweaters. “I’ll buy you the exact _same_ ones if you like them so much.” 

“Yeah, you could do that, but I wouldn’t wear them then because they don’t smell like you,” Hongjoong says. “Dummy.” 

Seonghwa scrunches his nose. “What did you just call me?” 

“A _dummy_ ,” Hongjoong says, using the nasally tone of voice that would have Seonghwa wanting to throw hands if it were coming from anyone else. “What are you going to do? Kiss me because you’re annoyed?” 

“I’m not going to cook you dinner, is what I’m going to do,” Seonghwa says, and he holds in a cackle at how fast Hongjoong’s face falls. “You just missed out at okonomiyaki. How sad~” 

Hongjoong pouts, getting up specifically to wrap his arms around Seonghwa’s waist and leave a big, sloppy kiss on Seonghwa’s cheek. “Seonghwa, don’t be mad~” 

Well, Seonghwa won’t fight the clothes-sharing thing too much. After all, his favorite version of Hongjoong is a Hongjoong who smells like Seonghwa and makes sweater paws out of sleeves that are much too big for him, and when Seonghwa catches a sliver of smooth collarbone that means Hongjoong isn’t wearing anything underneath the sweater, he files that information away for later, after dinner. 

**SEONGJOONG HAIR DYE**

Seonghwa’s stomach drops when he sees his reflection in the mirror. “You dyed my hair _pink?!_ ” He should have suspected something when Hongjoong had been uncharacteristically agreeable about helping him dye his hair after Seonghwa’s own attempts to go blonde had gone awry. 

“You never said I wasn’t allowed to do anything _after_ I achieved the blonde,” Hongjoong says, blinking innocently up at Seonghwa. “And you look hot, so what’s the issue?” 

**SEONGJOONG HOLDING HANDS FOR FIRST TIME**

“Is this platonic hand holding because my hands are warmer than yours or heart boner hand holding because you think I’m hot and you want to marry me?” Hongjoong asks, and Seonghwa squints at his previously-rival-now-turned-boyfriend. 

“Does the obnoxiousness grow exponentially once you’re in a relationship with someone?” 

“I wouldn’t know,” Hongjoong says, shrugging, but he grips onto Seonghwa’s hands even tighter, and Seonghwa’s mouth falls open when he sees how red the tips of Hongjoong’s ears are. “You’re my first one.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**YUNHWA PURPLE STAIN**

“Out of my room, puppy,” Seonghwa says, pulling Yunho up by the back of his collar and letting Yunho finish standing up by himself. “What disaster have you cooked up now?” 

“Okay, I understand that I don’t have the greatest track record,” Yunho says, his grin sheepish as he tries to block Seonghwa from seeing the pile of nonsensical items on the floor, “but this is for your birthday and nothing else, I promise.” 

“Was the purple stain in my favorite rug for my birthday, too? It’s kind of hard to tell whether your gifts are blessings or just another mess for my brittle, old soul to clean up,” Seonghwa says, and Yunho pouts at him.

**SEONGJOONG SPACE PIRATES**

“Okay, new plan,” Hongjoong says as the lights go red and alarm bells start to ring through the hallways. The unidentified intruders have gotten in. “ _You_ seduce the alien and fuck him, it, her, whatever they would like to identify as, if gender is even a thing in their society.” 

“There will be _no_ fucking,” Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong coughs out a laugh that’s half panic, half disbelief. “I can’t believe you would send me out to die by intercourse with an entirely different species, what is _wrong_ with you—” 

“So it’s fine if it’s the same species?” Hongjoong asks, raising an eyebrow. “What about me? Theoretical question, ‘cause I’m curious and we might die—” 

“Yes, I’d be down for that,” Seonghwa says with an exasperated sigh, and ignores Hongjoong’s eyes widening. “Let’s talk about it later, but we need to make sure we stay alive first, alright, dumbass?” 

“Aye aye, captain,” Hongjoong says, winking, and Seonghwa shoves him. 

**WOOCHAN SPACE PIRATES / CONMEN AU**

“Blow them up,” Woojin says without even batting an eyelash as he checks for the location of the knot causing Chan pain in his leg, and Chan does a double take at him. 

“ _No,_ ” Chan says. “Are you fundamentally insane? You don’t want to try something more diplomatic, like I dunno, _talking?_ ” 

“We’re travelling out in butt fuck nowhere trying not to die in space, up against creatures who exist in non-linear timelines and pop in and out of our perception depending on their mood for the day,” Woojin says, and he slants an upward gaze at the bruises scattered all over Chan’s torso. “So no, I don’t want to _talk,_ especially not after what they did to you _._ ” 

**WOOCHAN SERIAL KILLER AU**

“I was going to keep you,” Chan says, and when he watches the way Woojin is shaking, cold and scared and miserable, there’s a slight twinge of pain in his chest that he thinks might be what other people call empathy. 

“Please,” Woojin says, taking a breath. “Please don’t hurt me.” He’s not begging anymore, just stating it with no variation of tone at all, like he no longer has any faith that his words will have any impact on Chan. 

They do. It’s just that there’s a demon in Chan’s heart who makes him want to destroy even the people he loves the most, and he can’t win. 

**WOOCHAN OFFICE AU**

“You can pull up another chair, you know,” Chan says, grimacing as Woojin settles even more comfortably onto Chan’s thigh and continues troubleshooting to see why the directory paths for the new rigs are resulting in corrupt files. 

“Why would I do that when your lap is so soft and fluffy?” Woojin asks, tossing a dismissive but amused look over his shoulder at Chan, who bristles. 

“Take that back or else I’m going to stop proofreading your emails for you.” 

“Ooooh, scary. What am I ever going to do about that~” Woojin says mockingly, as their boss passes by with a group of new hires.

“This is Woojin and Chan,” he says, with his characteristic chuckle that means he’s about to say something no one finds funny. “They always share the same chair because they’re Siamese twins.” 

“Your humor is just riveting, sir,” Chan says, which their boss doesn’t catch but Woojin does, and he laughs so hard that no sound comes out at all, and Chan can feel the vibrations of amusement transfer through where his chest is touching Woojin’s back. 

**WOOCHAN BOYFRIENDS BUNNY**

“He bit me,” Woojin yelps, pouting as Chan reaches over to take the bunny, who relaxes in his touch almost immediately and does not bite Chan the way it had bitten Woojin. 

“Can we have this one?” Chan asks, laughing, and Woojin raises his eyebrows. 

“You’re going to pick the brattiest bunny out of all the other kind-hearted ones we’ve held?”

“I’m good with brats. Especially since my boyfriend’s the biggest brat of them all,” Chan says, and Woojin scrunches his nose as Chan seems to think of a better idea and adds, “Should we adopt a nice, agreeable one, too, so this one doesn’t get lonely and so that we have the complete bunny versions of us?” 

“Okay,” Woojin says, which earns him one of Chan’s pearly white smiles that always turns Woojin’s insides to mush. 

**SEONGJOONG LEAVING FOR WORK**

“I’m gonna head out,” Seonghwa says, after pulling on his shoes and checking to make sure his tucked in dress shirt isn’t creating any weird lumps or folds underneath his slacks, and he can’t help but smile when he sees Hongjoong watching him carefully with an air of dismissiveness, which he’s learned to recognize as Hongjoong caring too much and trying to mask it. 

“Did you forget something?” Hongjoong asks, raising an eyebrow, and Seonghwa blinks at him in confusion before he realizes what Hongjoong wants, and leans in for a goodbye kiss. 

“No, idiot,” Hongjoong says, laughing into the kiss before he takes a step back, cheeks flushed, avoiding Seonghwa’s eyes as he opens his palm to hold out Seonghwa’s wallet. “You’re so…” 

“Romantic, the correct word is _romantic_ ,” Seonghwa says, pouting, but he doesn’t feel all that embarrassed and just takes his wallet from Hongjoong, but not before he steals another kiss. 

**SEONGJOONG CELEBRITY AU (makeup artist Hongjoong x celebrity Seonghwa) dahlia original**

“Who do you think is lonelier?” Seonghwa asks, closing his eyes and waiting because he sees Hongjoong pick up a different sort of brush, the one that means he’s going to start applying Seonghwa’s eye makeup. Hongjoong’s hands are feather light on Seonghwa’s face but efficient, and Seonghwa could fall asleep to the sensation of soft bristles swiping shadow across his eyelids. “The man loved by millions, or the man loved by none?” 

He doesn’t think Hongjoong will answer, when Hongjoong is so reserved and curt towards even the most beautiful of models and actresses, but Seonghwa will grab at anything to pass the time since his phone has been confiscated by his manager, who says he’s only doing so to prevent Seonghwa from reading too much online criticism about himself. 

“The man loved by millions,” Hongjoong replies after a few seconds, staring Seonghwa straight in the eye, and Seonghwa is taken aback because Hongjoong rarely lets their gazes meet like this. “Because that love is often conditional, and it’s a constant guessing game to discern who’s going to stay even when things get bad and ugly, and who’s just here to take.” 

“Sounds like you have personal experience~” Seonghwa says, even as his chest feels like it’s caving in on itself. He hadn’t expected an answer like that. “Care to share?” 

“No,” Hongjoong says, then smiles to soften the edge to his words. “Do you feel more at ease now that Yunho’s taken your phone away from you? It’s probably better for you to stay off social media for a while.” 

“Not really,” Seonghwa says. Him not being on his phone doesn’t make all those hateful comments disappear, but Hongjoong keeps surprising him today with the unexpectedly genuine interaction, and it’s going to make Seonghwa feel like Hongjoong cares when Seonghwa shouldn’t assume that about anyone anymore. “I didn’t know you paid attention to your clients.” 

“I don’t,” Hongjoong says, holding onto Seonghwa’s jaw with just his fingertips as he uses his other hand to draw a soft wing out from Seonghwa’s lash line. “Just you.” 

**SEONGJOONG ANDROID AU #1 dahlia original**

“I’ve tried everything,” Seonghwa says, quietly. His voice is perfectly human, and the sunlight filtering in through the windows reveals the flesh-pink undertone of his ears as if there were real blood flowing underneath the skin. “But you’re still very cold to me.” 

“Cold?” Hongjoong echoes. He thinks he’s been more than generous in the fact that he hasn’t let Seonghwa’s battery die. It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it, how easy it would be to wipe Seonghwa’s entire system under the guise of neglect and misunderstanding and send him right back to the manufacturer where he belongs. “I’ve given you access to the entire library as well as complete freedom to do as you please while you’re living here. Is that not enough?” 

“You don’t look at me,” Seonghwa replies. He sucks in a breath, and Hongjoong hates how fucking _real_ it sounds, even though he knows that if he opened Seonghwa up, he’d only find cold metal and wires along with the lung simulators that allow Seonghwa to pretend he needs to breathe. “You’re not… you’re not making any attempt to foster an emotional connection with me.” 

“I didn’t _want_ you,” Hongjoong hisses, and he almost wants to shake Seonghwa when he sees Seonghwa flinch at the harsh words. Nothing Hongjoong says should make a machine react like that, but from the moment Seonghwa had opened his eyes and taken his first breath to smile at Hongjoong, he’d been all too good at pretending. “My brother brought you here because he thought it would give me a heart again, but it won’t.” Hongjoong points to his own chest. “There’s nothing here, Seonghwa, do you realize that?” 

“That’s the first time you’ve said my name,” Seonghwa says, softly, and Hongjoong freezes. “That means I’ve made progress.” 

“How is that progress?” Hongjoong asks, narrowing his eyes. He loathes the way Seonghwa’s gazing at him, like he’s cracked the code to a puzzle Hongjoong has been hiding away for years. “You’ve irritated me enough for me to address you by name. Is that something to be proud of?” 

Hongjoong is used to emptiness, has perfected the art of feeling absolutely nothing in the most extreme of situations, so he doesn’t understand why a stranger, a non-human _android_ , at that, has managed to stir awake the parts of himself he’s stored away for years as a coping mechanism. 

“I would prefer to make you say my name out of happiness,” Seonghwa says, “...but to make you feel anything at all, is a start.” 

  
**SEONGJOONG ANDROID AU #2 dahlia original**

“Did you bring him here as some sort of sick joke?” Hongjoong asks, after the initial shock has faded and they’ve sent Seonghwa away to observe the students in the greenhouse so that they can talk, just the two of them. 

“No,” Jongho says, shaking his head as he rolls his lower lip under his teeth, surveying Hongjoong’s facial expression. It’s clear, now, that he hadn’t expected for Hongjoong to nearly have a mental breakdown at the sight of an android with the face of someone who wasn’t alive anymore. “You weren’t yourself after Mars got into an accident, so…” 

“...So you thought it was a good idea to create a robot version of my dead best friend?” Hongjoong asks, dryly. He doesn’t even have the heart to get angry, because he knows how Jongho’s brain works; Jongho had thought this was the perfect solution to make Hongjoong’s grief magically disappear. He just hadn’t considered that Mars wasn’t some stuffed animal that had only needed new fur and a freshly trimmed bow, but a man made of flesh and blood who’d passed away under odd circumstances before Hongjoong could save him or even say goodbye. “For someone so smart, you’ve got zero common sense and zero tact.” 

“I guess it seemed like a better idea in my head,” Jongho says, looking apologetic. 

‘Well,” Hongjoong says, with a sigh. “How do we send him back without hurting his feelings? ...Does he have feelings?” 

“Oh,” Jongho says, and that’s the tone of voice Hongjoong recognizes from when Jongho was younger and he’d try to avoid telling Hongjoong that he’d broken one of Hongjoong’s expensive toys. “We can’t… send him back.” 

Hongjoong narrows his eyes. “Why not?” 

“I programmed Seonghwa to only grow attached to you,” Jongho explains with a nervous laugh, and he visibly pales once he sees Hongjoong’s gaze shift from confusion to fury. “Ah, hyung, don’t kill me—” 

“Consider yourself lucky if you see the sun tomorrow,” Hongjoong says, hooking his arm around Jongho’s neck as he pulls his younger brother in the direction of the greenhouse, and Jongho erupts into a long-winded explanation about how the programming he’d done on Seonghwa is too invaluable for them to erase and reset, that the data Seonghwa provides is necessary in order for Jongho to make progress on—

Hongjoong stops listening, because in the end, it doesn’t matter. They’re not keeping Seonghwa, and that’s final. 


	3. Chapter 3

**SEONGJOONG WEREWOLF AU dahlia original**

“You’re bleeding,” Hongjoong hears from somewhere to his right, and despite his efforts to react quickly, the wolfsbane in his wound makes his reflexes lag as he turns towards the stranger’s voice. 

The man is long and lean, dressed in all black with a leather jacket and combat boots that look too pristine for someone who’s managed to get this far out into these woods. Hongjoong’s gaze, blurred slightly by fatigue and confusion, slowly wobbles upward to settle on the man’s face. 

Eyes large, with double eyelids that look as if they’ve been carved in with a knife. A long, sharp nose and a small mouth contrasted by full lips. The stranger is handsome, but there’s nothing in his facial features that reveals even a sliver of what he’s thinking, and that’s a little scary for a Hongjoong who’s freshly injured. 

“No shit,” Hongjoong replies, and winces as more pain shoots up his forearm, though he’s not so bothered by the pain as he is by the fact that the toxins seeping into his bloodstream render him entirely powerless to defend himself in case the man harbors any ill will. 

The stranger takes a step towards Hongjoong, not particularly threatening but not friendly, either. Hongjoong belatedly realizes that the man smells faintly of an unfamiliar pack, which means he’s a _wolf_ , too, but then the scent is quickly overtaken by the smell of heavy, weighted sourness and an almost asphyxiating smoke. 

That scent means only one thing: this man was forcibly ejected from his pack, if he ever had one. 

The rest of Hongjoong’s observation skills set in a split second later, and panic flares up in him when he sees the gun and crossbow on the man, bullet belt strapped across the man’s chest. When he concentrates hard enough, he can also make out the scent of mountain ash and wolfsbane, probably tucked away in the bag hanging across the man’s shoulder. 

Hongjoong bites down on the fear and apprehension simmering underneath his skin so that his eyes don’t change color and reveal his status. “What are you?” 

“Does it matter?” the man asks, tone of voice soft. 

“Fuck you,” Hongjoong says, backing up, clenching his fists to maintain what remaining control he has over his limbs. The man continues to watch him with an undefinable look, and Hongjoong sways as his vision continues to blur. “I’m not going to walk into your trap and let you have an easy kill, asshole.” 

“I’m not going to kill you,” the man says, and he slowly walks closer as Hongjoong’s legs give out and he drops to the ground, world beginning to fade to black. “But you’re also going to die if you let the wolfsbane travel to your heart.” 

Hongjoong’s last conscious thought is that he’s stumbled upon much worse than just a wolf who’s done something so heinous that he’s been exiled from his pack. 

Hongjoong’s met a hunter who goes after his own kind. 

**SEONGJOONG WEREWOLF #2 dahlia original**

Hongjoong wakes up with a headache that feels like it’s going to split his skull in half, before he starts to take in his surroundings and realizes he’s lying on a cold, metal table. If it were Wooyoung, he’d probably start screaming and lashing out, but Hongjoong has been in worse situations, so he just takes the opportunity to close his eyes and wait for the grogginess lingering behind them to fade. 

There’s a brief moment of a palm gently landing on Hongjoong’s head, petting his matted hair once before the hand retreats. The warmth is… comforting, as momentary as it is, and Hongjoong might have let himself lean into the touch if the hand had stayed a few seconds longer. “You doing okay?” 

Hongjoong cracks an eye open to look at the hunter, who’s staring at him with some semblance of concern. The man has shed all of his outerwear and gear, only sporting a black t-shirt ripped at the shoulder and a pair of black sweatpants. “You gonna dissect me for an experiment, big boy?” Hongjoong asks, voice scratchy. 

“If I really wanted to dissect you, I would have sliced you open in the woods,” the man says calmly. 

“Reassuring,” Hongjoong says, but he’s more relaxed, now that he’s gotten some sleep and the hunter doesn’t seem to be an immediate threat. “You didn’t think to put your lovely, injured guest in a bed? Though I guess with a face like that, you don’t really have to brush up on your social skills—” 

“The kids would have made a ruckus if I brought you back home,” the man replies, like he’d actually considered the possibility, and Hongjoong raises his eyebrows. “You’re probably feeling significantly better if you can make jokes like this.” 

Hongjoong’s about to respond with something snarky, but his skull chooses that moment to throb painfully from all sides and he groans miserably, “Fuck me.” 

“I guess the profanities come with your personality by default,” the man remarks. “The headache is a side effect from the drink I gave you to assist in removing the toxins from your body, but the discomfort should be mostly gone by the end of the day.”

Hongjoong drops his head back onto the table. Without the mysterious stranger’s interference, he might have bled to death or succumbed to the unusually high concentration of wolfsbane poisoning. “Thank you, I guess.” 

“No problem,” the man says. “Though if I were you, I wouldn’t be thankful too soon. What if I’ve brought you here just to make wolf barbecue?” 

Hongjoong snorts. “There’s a sense of humor underneath the poker face? I’m going to need your name, buddy.” 

“It’s Seonghwa,” the man answers. 

“Pretty,” Hongjoong says. “I’m—” 

“Kim Hongjoong,” the man finishes for him, and Hongjoong blinks at him, stunned. 

“I don’t rescue feisty, violent werewolves and bring them back to my headquarters by accident out of the kindness of my heart,” Seonghwa says, with a wry smile. “But I’ll explain once you’ve had some dinner.” 

**SEONGJOONG ANDROID AU #3 (on my ao3 as a separate work) dahlia original**

“Hongjoong~” A weight settles on top of Hongjoong’s comforter, lightly, as if making sure not to disturb Hongjoong too much. “Wake up.” 

Hongjoong blames his confusion on how late he’d gone to bed last night, stuck in between a headache that had made him want to knock out face first into his pillow and an overactive mind that had made the back of his eyes itch uncomfortably even as his eyelids kept drifting shut. That’s why he doesn’t really question the fact that someone is personally waking him up when he’s woken up on his own for years, and it’s also why he forgets to suppress the childishness that sometimes reveals itself if he’s not careful. 

“No,” Hongjoong whines, curling deeper into his blankets. “Too early.” 

“Would you like to go on… a walk?” the velvety voice asks, unsurely. 

For a moment, Hongjoong is thrown back into his childhood home, waking up on a lazy Sunday morning to the sound of an overexcited Mars telling him to hurry up and go on an early morning hike with him, so that they can get a refreshing start to their day by watching the sun come up before they go eat waffles for breakfast. 

Hongjoong had hated, with a fiery passion, the way the cold air would seep through his layers and layers of clothing, but he had tolerated it because the way Mars would smile at him the whole time was more than warm enough to compensate. 

Only Hongjoong isn’t seventeen anymore, with small, silly concerns like teenage friendships and grades and how many waffles he’s going to be able to scarf down for post-hike breakfasts. He’s twenty-six now, jaded and worn thin by the losses he’s accumulated over the years, and while he lives in a picture perfect house in the wealthier part of town, it’s too big and empty for a pair of brothers like him and Jongho to fully occupy, and the familiar sensation of _absence,_ a feeling akin to having his whole body plunged into ice, sinks deep into his bones when he realizes the mistake he’s made in believing that Mars is still here. 

Hongjoong opens his eyes, and feels a jolt run through his spine when he makes eye contact with the man sitting on his bed. 

Seonghwa is both nothing and everything like Mars, when Hongjoong really looks at him. He’s got the same soft eyes, the same distinct, sharp nose, the same rosy lips that never pull too wide in case Mars ruins his image. Seonghwa smiles the same way Mars used to, like he’s not sure whether he’s in pain or amused, and the only reason Hongjoong can tell the difference between this stranger and his dead best friend is because Seonghwa’s skin looks like glass and his features are completely symmetrical, an impossible feat for even the most beautifully crafted of human beings. 

If Seonghwa had anyone else’s face, Hongjoong would consider touching his cheek to check how smooth his skin is, constructed of expensive resin that’s peach-tinted to give Seonghwa a lively flush of color. 

But Seonghwa, in every aspect except the one Hongjoong needs the most, is an exact duplicate of the man Hongjoong can never get back no matter how many times he’s wished for it with teary eyes, and just _looking_ at Seonghwa makes Hongjoong feel like he’s being continuously burned all throughout his insides by flames he can’t put out, so he’s not sure what would happen if he did something as dangerous as _touch_. 

“Why would you ask me a question like that?”

“I thought it would…” Seonghwa trails off, before gathering the courage to start again. “...That the familiarity of the activity might brighten your mood.” 

It’s Mars’s face, for sure, extending an invitation characteristic of Mars’s personality. The reasoning behind that invitation, however, is mechanical, just a computer using algorithms to figure out what will make Hongjoong the happiest superficially, and that immediately drains the remainder of what little faith Hongjoong has in Seonghwa. 

Hongjoong closes his eyes, knowing he’s on the verge of shutting down. It’s hard enough to have Seonghwa walking around the house when every sight of him is yet another sprinkle of salt on merely one of Hongjoong’s many open wounds, and this...Seonghwa trying to fulfill his role as a replacement, cuts particularly deep. 

Hongjoong exhales shakily before he asks, “Why are you in my room?” 

“Sorry,” Seonghwa says, looking down at his lap. “Based on the data I was given about you, you’ve been getting up later than you used to. Your sleeping patterns are changing, so I was... concerned.” 

“Data on my sleeping patterns?” Hongjoong raises his eyebrows. As much as he wants to kill Jongho for being tactless enough to create a machine-version of Mars, he has to acknowledge his younger brother was diligent. “Am I some experiment to you?” 

“No,” Seonghwa says. “It’s because... I care about you.” 

“You’re wrong,” Hongjoong says, despair gathering hot and heavy at his fingertips as he curls his hands into fists. “You’ve been programmed to care about me. They’ve shoved memories and emotions belonging to someone else down your throat so that you can pretend to understand what it means to feel things when it’s so much easier not to.” 

“It’s not pretending,” Seonghwa argues. He sounds... like he’s going to cry, and for some reason, Hongjoong fully expects to see wetness at the corners of Seonghwa’s eyes despite knowing Seonghwa is incapable of producing tears. “You may think that I don’t feel anything, Hongjoong, but our memories together are always on replay, and all I think about whenever you say vicious things out of spite is that you don’t look at me the way you used to.” 

“The way I used to?” Hongjoong repeats, gaze going blank. He feels hollow inside his chest, and even if he already avoids looking at Seonghwa most of the time, he _really_ can’t look at him now. “You don’t know me. You weren’t here when any of the good or bad or dumb shit happened to me. You weren’t in my life at _all_ until a month ago, so we’re acquaintances at best.” 

“I do know you,” Seonghwa insists. “It’s not my fault I was given Mars’s memories, which are raw and painful and very _real_ , Hongjoong, and all I can do with these emotions is accept them as mine. That I’m experiencing them so that I can give you the love you deserve, but you keep saying it’s just pretend and that hurts me even more.” 

“What is it, then, if not pretending?” Hongjoong asks. “Why do you bother learning the intricacies of human emotion when your natural lack of it is the most powerful thing about you?” 

Seonghwa purses his lips to think, pausing for a beat before he eventually answers, “The warmth.” 

“What?” Hongjoong chuckles. “Warmth?” 

Seonghwa nods. “I don’t know if it’s the same type of warmth you experience, but it’s the feeling I get when I see you being kind to a stray, dirty kitten by feeding it fish you’ve picked all the bones out of. When you laugh at a joke that’s not funny no matter how many times I replay the audio in my head, and your eyes curl into these little crescents. When you check to see that none of my charging or interior cables are twisted even though you hardly ever smile at me.”

Hongjoong bites at his lower lip hard enough to cause pain, in order to distract himself from what Seonghwa has just said. 

“What does that feel like?” he asks. It’s a question laced with more sarcasm than sincerity, but it’s fine, because Seonghwa hasn’t mastered the various nuances of human humor and Hongjoong is curious to know the answer regardless. “Do your wires feel fuzzy, or overheat? Does the code Jongho’s written for you to function properly skip lines and make you glitch?” 

“It makes me feel like I’m burning from the inside out,” Seonghwa replies. “Like flames are licking at my fingers but I can’t put them out no matter how hard I try.” 

His eyelashes flutter, the gesture every bit as uncanny as it is _real,_ and Hongjoong’s eyes widen at the fact that Seonghwa has described the exact same sensation Hongjoong is forced to live through every time he sees Seonghwa doing anything that remotely resembles what Mars used to do. 

If Hongjoong were less stubborn, he would be kind to Seonghwa. After all, Seonghwa didn’t actively choose to become the vessel through which Mars’s memories live on, but Hongjoong didn’t choose this either, and despite all that he could gain from having a nearly flawless android devoted to loving only him, all Hongjoong sees in Seonghwa is everything he’s lost. 

**SEONGJOONG BAD BOYS SQUARED AU (on my ao3 as separate work, “blood on the crown (take it)” dahlia original**

Hongjoong does one of his lazy eye rolls as he says, “You know you can drop the bratty act now, right?” 

Confused, Seonghwa blinks innocently as he watches Hongjoong pull on a thin henley sweater, effectively covering up the intricate illustrative tattoos adorning both of his arms from his shoulders to his wrists. It’s a shame that Hongjoong almost always wears long sleeves, since the tattoos are so pretty, but Seonghwa also feels special for being one of the few people to see Hongjoong’s inked, bare skin on a regular basis. “What do you mean?” 

“The excuses you come up with so that I’ll spend time with you. The remarks that you don’t really mean but say anyways because you want to get a rise out of me. The photos you’ll post of you hanging out with girls when I haven’t replied to your messages in a few hours,” Hongjoong says, and Seonghwa rolls his lower lip under his teeth before he runs a hand through his hair. The ends are a little dry from the bleach job he’d gotten done in order to achieve the dirty blonde color, but beauty, whether obtained naturally or by force, tends to come hand in hand with sacrifice. 

“I think you’re being too conscious of me, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says, voice honey sweet. Deflecting is easy, in order to maintain the peace of the status quo. “I’m not doing anything on purpose to try and bug you.”

After pushing Seonghwa’s blanketed legs out of the way, Hongjoong sits down on the bed, a little too far for Seonghwa’s liking. He lets his eyes rake over Seonghwa’s naked torso slow enough that Seonghwa can’t miss it, but he makes no move to touch, and Seonghwa feels like Hongjoong’s purposely chosen to create this uneasy distance between them to prove a point. 

“You’re sure about that answer?” Hongjoong doesn’t look convinced, which makes sense, considering even Seonghwa isn’t convinced by his own words, thrown off by the rhythm of a song he hadn’t expected Hongjoong to play this soon or at all. “If that’s the case, then we should stop whatever we’ve been doing, these few months.” 

Seonghwa’s brows furrow before he can control himself, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Hongjoong. 

_Whatever we’ve been doing_ means the cuddling, the making out that often results in hickeys, the fucking that always leaves Seonghwa wondering what he’s gotten himself into by trying to conquer a boy as strong willed and independent as Hongjoong, whose kisses leave Seonghwa gasping for air and remind him that it’s actually Hongjoong who’s holding the puppet strings to make Seonghwa do as he pleases, instead of it being the other way around. 

_Whatever we’ve been doing_ also means the dinner dates that Seonghwa has started to look forward to as the only good part of every new week, the way Hongjoong tolerates Seonghwa crawling into his lap when he’s studying even if it’s inconvenient, the meaningful looks from Hongjoong Seonghwa secretly preens at but never directly acknowledges because he’s reluctant to think about what it means for them in the long run. 

It’s so scary for Seonghwa, to admit that he’s gotten attached to Hongjoong when the foundation of his relationships with people have always been established as temporary, and Seonghwa isn’t used to keeping people _forever_ , so it terrifies him even more that he wants that from Hongjoong yet he has no definitive way of obtaining it. He’s not sure why Hongjoong is bringing this up now, because they’re getting along just fine even if Seonghwa manipulates their narrative into something less serious than it actually is, and sometimes it’s easier to leave difficult words unsaid when there’s a possibility that the response might be one Seonghwa doesn’t want to hear. 

“Why?” Seonghwa asks, quietly. “Why do you want to stop when you never had a problem before?” 

“Because I want you to be able to ask for my time or affection without feeling like you need to mask it under something else,” Hongjoong says. His voice wavers ever so slightly, and Seonghwa can feel his heart swell up double its size inside his chest. Hongjoong is usually as fiery and outspoken as his bright red hair, but in this moment, he’s also soft and vulnerable and scared, just like Seonghwa. “Because I want to become a choice that you make again and again, rather than just one of many convenient options by your side.” 

Hongjoong _is_ a choice. Not only that, he’s been Seonghwa’s _first_ choice for a long, long time, because Seonghwa has a horridly short attention span and yet he can spend entire days thinking about how Hongjoong makes him feel complete, like Seonghwa is enough as he is even when other people think there’s no depth to his personality. Seonghwa might hang out with other people to fill the emptiness that lingers in him whenever he’s not getting the attention he wants from Hongjoong, but Hongjoong is the one who Seonghwa comes home to emotionally. 

Compared to the murky waters Seonghwa has slept underneath the surface of for years, Hongjoong is a breath of clean, fresh air, but all of the crucial words are stubbornly stuck in his throat, and even when Seonghwa finally feels like he’s caught his breath, he can only utter out, “...Hongjoong?”

“Because I don’t know who else you’re smiling at and crowning as your favorite all the other days of the week,” Hongjoong continues. “The innocent lamb act might work on other people, Seonghwa, but we both know that everything you do is intentional to an extent, and I don’t want to keep playing games with you if you don’t have any intention of keeping me. I’m… tired.” 

“Then I won’t play games anymore,” Seonghwa says, voice a little too loud and squeaky in his desperation to keep Hongjoong. In front of anyone else, he’d worry about messing up his image, but all he’s paying attention to right now is the way Hongjoong’s eyes widen before they narrow again, thoughtfully, as he realizes Seonghwa has kicked down all of his own walls in order to be honest for the first time. 

“You mean that, Seonghwa?” Hongjoong asks, like he’s afraid to get his hopes up too high. “Because I’m not gonna play nice and let you go, even if you change your mind.” 

“I don’t care whether you play nice or mean as long as you keep me,” Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong breathes out a laugh of relief.

And now, Hongjoong is the one to crawl closer until he’s practically in Seonghwa’s lap, thumbing at Seonghwa’s nipple while leaving wet kisses along Seonghwa’s jaw to make sure Seonghwa fully understands whose grasp he’s fallen into. Despite all the dangers Hongjoong seems to present, Seonghwa knows he’s in safe hands, and he simply closes his eyes as he gives in to the man who’s equally kind as he is ruthless, because he knows Hongjoong won’t ever let him fall. 

**SEONGJOONG MERMAIDS AU**

Seonghwa runs a hand through his wet, black hair, the locks reflecting a rich sapphire blue when the sun catches him at the right angles, as he stares at Hongjoong in a mixture of awe and disbelief. “You’re immune to my singing?” 

“I guess so,” Hongjoong says, tilting his head. This is the.. fourth, fifth? time the strange but very pretty merman has come to visit him. Hongjoong has been in a different part of the world every single time, so he assumes mermen and mermaids travel extremely fast. “I don’t feel any urge to be led to my death. That’s what you guys do, right?” 

“I don’t want to lead you to your death,” Seonghwa says, pouting. “I’m trying to lure you into my bed.” 

“You guys have beds in the ocean?” Hongjoong asks, mildly impressed, and Seonghwa groans loudly in what Hongjoong can only guess is frustration. 

**SEONGJOONG HAUNTED HOUSE AU**

Hongjoong leans against a rail while he waits for Mingi and Yunho, like the nutheads they are, to finish going through the haunted house for the third time. Once was enough for him, especially after he’d been unlucky enough to get grabbed by cold, large hands and have the shit further scared out of him when his attacker said something in a demonic voice about how Hongjoong was the perfect size to drag under the floorboards. 

“Hey,” a voice says from right next to him, and the unexpected presence makes Hongjoong yelp loudly before he turns and realizes it’s just Seonghwa, quintessential sweetheart of the art department and their entire university, probably. 

He’s got red eyeshadow smudged underneath his eyelids, and it makes him look like he’s decaying from the inside out, although Hongjoong likes the look more than he minds it. Hongjoong’s about to ask why Seonghwa has makeup on, but Seonghwa is the one to speak first. 

“Where are your friends, Hongjoong?” 

“In there,” Hongjoong says, sighing as he juts his chin out towards the haunted house entrance. “I hope they get grabbed by the psycho who threatened to drag me underneath the floorboards. Then they will know fear, and I will laugh at their pain.” 

“They won’t, because he just got off his shift,” Seonghwa says with a sly smile, and Hongjoong’s jaw drops when he realizes Seonghwa was the one who grabbed him. “Though you didn’t have much of a reaction when I caught a hold of you.” 

“Because my soul was _gone_ ,” Hongjoong says, feeling oddly embarrassed knowing he and Seonghwa were in such close proximity. “You scarred me for life.” 

“I’ve always wanted to make a lasting impression on you,” Seonghwa says, winking poorly, before he goes on to add, “but I can make it up to you if you’ll let me take you out to dinner.” 

Hongjoong blinks at him. “Why would you do that?” 

“I’m asking you on a date, goofball,” Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong nearly chokes. 

**SEONGJOONG ALICE IN WONDERLAND AU, Hongjoong as the Cheshire Cat**

“Stop that,” Seonghwa says. 

Hongjoong’s teeth are eerily perfect when he smiles big and wide. “Stop what?”

Seonghwa blinks, and blinks again. A moment ago Hongjoong’s hair had been bubblegum pink, but now it’s a blend of soft teal and violet, and the neon pink mesh of his shirt has somehow morphed into a fuzzy lime-colored sweater. 

“Disappearing and then reappearing,” Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong drums his fingers on his cheek idly as he stares at Seonghwa through half-lidded eyes. “Smiling like you know something I don’t.” 

“This is my most natural smile,” Hongjoong says mildly. “The other ones are scarier.” 

Seonghwa’s heart starts to race. “What?” 

“You’re here to search for the queen, aren’t you?” Hongjoong asks, changing the subject before Seonghwa can ask for any more clarification. “She might be tending to the sheep.” 

“Why is your queen tending to sheep?” Seonghwa asks, narrowing his eyes. 

“She suffers from insomnia, so if she’s kind to them, the positive feelings they have towards her allow her to sleep at night,” Hongjoong explains, matter-of-factly. “Would you like me to help you find her?” 

“I feel like I’ve made a mistake,” Seonghwa says, backing up, and Hongjoong vanishes into thin air off of the tree branch before rematerializing right in front of Seonghwa. His hair’s bright orange now, and Seonghwa feels like he’s going to throw up. 

“There are no mistakes in wonderland,” Hongjoong says, with a pitying smile as he puts a reassuring hand on Seonghwa’s arm. “Only missed turns and unexpected detours.” 

**SEONGJOONG KISSING BOOTH AU**

“Hongjoong, come here,” Yunho says, beckoning for Hongjoong to move over to the booth window, and Hongjoong glares at his teammate. “Please.” 

“No,” Hongjoong says, from where he’s counting dollar bills and recording it into a logbook to keep track of how well their kissing booth is doing so far. “I don’t care _how_ hot she is, you know I’m hiding back here for a reason and I’m going to remain in this chair until the coast is absolutely clear.” 

“It’s not a hot girl,” Yunho says, which has Hongjoong raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh?” Hongjoong says, spinning the ballpoint pen in his hand between his fingers. “Is it a girl you don’t want to kiss, or something? Suck it up, buddy, you’re the one who came up with this idea.” 

Yunho shakes his head, amused. “To be more accurate, it’s a hot boy—” 

“It’s me, dipshit,” Seonghwa says, sticking his head inside to give Hongjoong a disapproving look, and Hongjoong sputters at having been caught by the one person he didn’t want to meet today. “You going to stop avoiding me or what, Hongjoong?” 

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong says, smiling nervously. “How did you find me?” 

“I used my brain cells, which I guess you ran out of,” Seonghwa says, scrunching his nose. “I paid Yunho already, so finish the conversation about being my boyfriend you chickened out of and give me the kiss I deserve.” 

**WOOSAN AU** **(fantasy)**

When San kisses him, Wooyoung feels like he’s been plunged into ice, the heat of forbidden attraction to a stranger overtaken by blurry images forced into his mind of a man he feels like he’s supposed to recognize. 

Then the images sharpen, and Wooyoung realizes the man is... him. The man’s appearance constantly changes, hair shifting between black and blonde and lilac, one version dressed in a black and white suit, another dressed in bright colors and patterns. A Wooyoung who’s sitting in a small, cramped cubicle with a pile of papers taller than him, typing nonstop with his eyes glued to his computer screen, and a Wooyoung who’s sitting in a studio, a recording studio, with six...seven other men whose faces evoke a sense of deja vu in him even though he’s never seen them before. 

The scene makes Wooyoung ache, reminds him of how hard he’d fought with his parents to let him pursue music, only to be backed into a corner and resign himself to studying law instead. 

San pulls away after a parting bite to Wooyoung’s lower lip, and Wooyoung opens his eyes to see his arms covered in tendrils of deep blue and red ink, the outlines constantly shifting as the ink slowly, gradually starts to occupy more skin than not, which has Wooyoung panicking. 

“What are you doing to me?”

“Nothing bad,” San murmurs, lips brushing against Wooyoung’s neck. “Aren’t you tired of living a life someone else chose for you?” 

“I have no choice,” Wooyoung says, softly. 

“You do,” San says. He rests his forehead against Wooyoung’s, and for a moment, Wooyoung believes him. “Every thought that pops up into your mind is another opportunity for your path to diverge, Wooyoung.” 

“That’s true, but it doesn’t make me any less afraid,” Wooyoung says. “I’m so afraid.” 

“So you’re going to let your fear dictate how you live the rest of your life?” San asks. “Let what people think of you reign supreme over how you feel about yourself?” 

“It’s all I’ve ever known,” Wooyoung says, because it’s true. He’s spent his whole life worrying about face, about his reputation, about living a normal, ordinary life that everyone would find respectable. 

“You have three days,” San says. He separates himself from Wooyoung, and Wooyoung immediately misses the warmth. “I will find you if you decide to be brave. If not, the ink on your arms will disappear forever, and you’ll live the life that suffocates you every single moment you’re awake.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**SEONGJOONG BODYGUARD AU**

“This is the best bodyguard you have to offer?” Seonghwa asks, surveying Hongjoong’s appearance with a scrutinizing gaze. “I get that I’m not the most upstanding client you’ve ever had, but aren’t you basically sending me straight to my death with a bodyguard this small and cute?” 

Any initial feelings of politeness Hongjoong had for the crime syndicate leader perishes as soon as Seonghwa opens his mouth, and he rolls his eyes at the dig about his height while Joonmyun rushes to his defense. 

“Hongjoong does indeed appear to be non-threatening at first,” Joonmyun says, sweetly, “but you’ll find that it’s one of his biggest strengths when it comes to protecting you. He’s proven time and time again to have the fastest reflexes and best problem solving skills under pressure in our entire group.” 

“Well,” Seonghwa says, airily, as he stands up and gives Hongjoong another sweeping look, except that this time, it’s accompanied by a smirk. “If I die, at least I’ll die looking at something cute.” 

“Fuck you,” Hongjoong says, as soon as he follows Seonghwa out of the office and Joonmyun is no longer within hearing range. 

“Is that a challenge you want me to take on?” Seonghwa asks, and Hongjoong really, _really_ wants to break his neck. “You’ll find that I’m not at all opposed to the idea.” 

**SEONGSANG PRINCE AU**

Yeosang stares dumbly at Seonghwa, not really processing the jumble of words Seonghwa has just rattled off to him. “What did you just say?” 

“Marry me,” Seonghwa repeats, flaring his nostrils in a mixture of irritation and embarrassment. 

“I’m not a princess, though,” Yeosang says. That’s merely the first of many obstacles he sees in a potential marriage with Seonghwa, and Seonghwa snorts at the statement. 

“I know,” Seonghwa says. “I’ve watched you for sixteen years, Yeosang, so I know you’re not a princess. You’re a prince who’d rather go bird watching and carve wooden animals and search for rare mushrooms in the forest than be brought any deeper into the politics of royalty.” 

Yeosang looks down at his lap. He’d looked forward to a few more years of dodging marriage proposals from royal families of neighboring kingdoms, before he’d inevitably have to be matched with some princess who he’d never met in his life. He’d never considered the possibility of Seonghwa making a proposal like this. “You know, so why would you ask me to marry you?” 

“Because my parents expect me to marry, which I don’t really want, but the only person I’d ever want that with is you,” Seonghwa explains. “And that with anyone else, I would feel locked in to uphold stifling expectations, but with you, I can just be myself.” 

“I don’t want—” Yeosang doesn’t finish his sentence. He loves Seonghwa, and Seonghwa is the most precious person in his life, but he doesn’t love Seonghwa in the way that warrants getting married and doing everything else he’s been taught about romantic love. 

“What’s bothering you?” Seonghwa asks. 

“You know I’m not like other people, Seonghwa,” Yeosang says, biting his lip. “I can’t live up to whatever expectations you’re going to have of me if we do get married.” 

Seonghwa furrows his brow. “What expectations?” 

“Like…” Yeosang trails off with a nervous exhale. “Touching.” 

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Seonghwa says, and Yeosang nods. Seonghwa steps closer, squatting in front of Yeosang and taking Yeosang’s hands into his. “Yeosang, you know I wouldn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want. You don’t have to marry me, if you’re really against it. Your comfort is of the utmost importance to me, and I won’t ever take that away from you.” 

“It’s not that I don’t want to marry you,” Yeosang says. Seonghwa is very pretty, handsome to a fault, with a heart that overflows with kindness despite all of the hardships he’s experienced, and Yeosang _has_ thought about kissing Seonghwa, but not much more than that. “But you watch me, sometimes, with this _look,_ and it scares me that I’ll disappoint you if I can’t do what you want.”

“Sorry, Yeosang,” Seonghwa says, pressing his lips to Yeosang’s knuckles. “It’s only because I adore you and I want to have you in every way I can, but this isn’t an ultimatum, and I’m not asking you to marry me just so that I can force you to do the things you don’t want to do. I’ve always known that you’re less interested in those sorts of things, and it doesn’t make you odd or strange or undesirable. You’re still my Yeosangie, who’s brilliant in all the ways I will never be, and I would be thrilled if I was lucky enough to have you as my husband.” 

Yeosang sniffles, unable to find the words that would convey how grateful he is to have Seonghwa in his life, so instead of stumbling over words that will just be useless, he holds Seonghwa’s face with both of his hands and kisses Seonghwa on the forehead. 

“Yeosang?” 

“I’m all yours,” Yeosang says, and Seonghwa’s eyes soften. “You going to let me continue bird-watching even after we’re married?” 

“As long as you let me come with you,” Seonghwa says, and Yeosang laughs, before nodding in agreement. 

**SEONGJOONG falling in love through time and space of their mirrors**

Hongjoong’s already in love with Seonghwa the third time he gets pulled through his mirror, into the void between the tangible world and the emotional realm where he’s able to watch Seonghwa looking at himself. 

Seonghwa frowns a lot, when he’s looking at his own reflection. It doesn’t make any sense because Seonghwa is both objectively and subjectively gorgeous, in Hongjoong’s eyes, but he’ll mess with his bangs, bite his lip as he runs a thumb along his jaw, tilt his head as he wrestles with some unvoiced dissatisfaction towards himself. 

Hongjoong doesn’t look at his own face all that much. He’s more likely to strip down to just his briefs in the mornings and look at the curves and lines of his own body, silently observing while he figures out what to wear for the day. It’s not because he thinks his body is particularly pretty, although he can appreciate the softness of his flat tummy and the thickness of his thighs. He’ll wiggle his toes and think about why feet look so weird, stick his fingers in the indents between his ribs and flatten his palms against the slight sharpness of his hip bones. 

And then he stops looking in the mirror, once he realizes it’s very possible there are eyes watching him from the other side, since he’s been given the ability to watch Seonghwa when Seonghwa thinks he’s alone. Hongjoong opts for checking his teeth in the round mirror his housemate has hung up in the living room and using the built-in wall mirror in the hallway to check his outfits before he goes out, leaving his own mirror in his bedroom to collect dust. 

Months later, Hongjoong is making his way to his car after a lecture that had stretched on for too long when someone gently grabs onto his shoulder, and Hongjoong turns in confusion, to find an all too familiar face frowning at him. 

“You’re—” 

“Seonghwa,” Seonghwa says. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah,” Hongjoong says. 

“Why did you stop looking in your mirror?” 

Seonghwa’s gaze is a lot more intense when it’s directed at Hongjoong and not past him, and Hongjoong shifts uncomfortably. “I knew that someone was watching, so I got self-conscious.” 

“I learned to love myself by watching you,” Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong’s eyes widen. “Because you didn’t look at yourself with an excessive amount of pride or self-hatred, you just observed yourself with a calm sort of peace, and slowly, I started to look at myself that way, too.” 

Hongjoong’s ears grow hot. “That’s good,” he says, not looking at Seonghwa. “There’s no reason for you not to think you’re beautiful.” 

“I know that, now,” Seonghwa says, lower lip trembling, and he grabs onto Hongjoong’s hand, like he’s afraid Hongjoong’s going to disappear if he doesn’t cling to him. “So you’ll look in your mirror again, right? These past few months have been really lonely, and I want to see all the different sides of you, too, not just the version of you that’s only a reflection.” 

“Yeah,” Hongjoong says, and Seonghwa smiles widely at him, a thousand times brighter than any of the smiles Hongjoong’s seen on him. “I can do that.” 

**SEONGJOONG CAFÉ AU w a PROPOSAL**

“My lovely Seonghwa,” Hongjoong says, bumping Seonghwa’s hip as he makes himself comfortable next to Seonghwa, who’s wiping down the espresso machines, and Seonghwa immediately grows wary. 

“What do you need from me?” 

Hongjoong pouts. “Is that any way to talk to your sweet, kind, loving manager who only ever wants the best for you?” He leans into Seonghwa’s space, close enough that Seonghwa gets a whiff of strawberry scented shampoo, and Seonghwa has to cut off the almost Pavlovian reaction to his favorite scent and remind himself that Hongjoong is a born trickster donning the mask of a cute, small animal. 

“You’re only this nice when you’re about to ask me for a favor,” Seonghwa says, forcing his facial expression to remain neutral as Hongjoong reaches over to undo the waist bow of Seonghwa’s work-apron and re-tie it as some sort of sweet gesture. “And I have learned to fear your requests.”

“Would you rather me fire you?” Hongjoong asks mildly, and Seonghwa sputters. 

“You’re firing me?” 

“No,” Hongjoong says, laugh tinged with mischief. “I’m just reminding you that things could be worse so you don’t feel as annoyed when I ask you to do this for me.” 

“Do what?” 

“...Fake-date me,” Hongjoong says, popping his head over into Seonghwa’s direct vision so that they can make eye contact. 

“No way,” Seonghwa says, heart starting to race. “Why?” 

“Why not?” Hongjoong asks. “It’ll boost business since most of the customers here are girls who already think we’re dating, and it’ll help you get rid of all the pesky invitations you get from people you’re not interested in.”

Seonghwa narrows his eyes. “What’s in it for you?” 

“I get to stare at your pretty face even more than I already do,” Hongjoong says, and as much as Seonghwa would _like_ for that to be the only motive behind Hongjoong’s odd request, he doubts it, because Hongjoong has never really expressed any genuine interest in him beyond that of a playful boss. So Seonghwa frowns at Hongjoong until he finally gives the real explanation after a slight pause. “My mom’s trying to set me up on blind dates. Imagine that? Me, sitting at dinners with some girl trying to make small talk about the weather and how I grew up and my _hobbies_? I would die.” 

“You’re great at socializing,” Seonghwa points out. 

“Doesn’t mean I want to sit through an agonizing dinner with someone who’s going to ask me about my life goals and how much money I make before deciding I’m not a good marriage candidate,” Hongjoong says, rolling his eyes. “You know how much I hate spending time with people I’m not emotionally invested in.” 

“So you’re going to ask me, your employee, to pretend to be in a relationship with you?” 

“Yeah, but see, I _like_ spending time with you,” Hongjoong says, and Seonghwa’s heart twists into a pretzel three times over even though he knows Hongjoong doesn’t mean it the way Seonghwa is hoping for. “And I know you kinda like me, ‘cause you smile at my jokes when you think I’m not looking and you always make my coffee exactly the way I like it!” 

“That’s very nice and all, but...” Seonghwa says with a sigh, knowing he’s already lost the battle. “You’re going to ask me to do something stupid like kiss you in front of your mom so she’ll leave you alone, aren’t you?” 

“My Seonghwa is so _smart,_ ” Hongjoong says, eyes sparkling, and Seonghwa deflates miserably because he doesn’t know whether he wants to hit Hongjoong or kiss him. 

**WOOSANG SOULMATES AU**

When Wooyoung wakes up to searing pain and sees the white bandages wrapped around his forearm where his soulmark used to be, he knows exactly what Yeosang has done. 

“So this is how you’re going to throw me away?” Wooyoung asks angrily. Yeosang’s arm is strategically tucked behind his back so Wooyoung can’t see, but Wooyoung knows they’re in the same amount of pain from how pale Yeosang’s face is, knows that Yeosang’s forearm is burned just as badly as his own. Yeosang may be reserved, but his emotions run _deep_ , which means he’d put a lot of thought into this despite knowing how much his decision would break Wooyoung’s heart. “You remove our soulmarks while I’m unconscious and pretend we were never soulmates in the first place, pretend like I was never in your life?” 

Wooyoung wants to shake Yeosang, wants to scream at him, do _anything_ to get rid of that empty look Yeosang has been giving him ever since Wooyoung started to get more offers for films and dramas. When people recognize Wooyoung in the streets, now, and ask for autographs or pictures, Wooyoung always notices the way Yeosang bites at his lip in resignation, like their love is slipping through his fingers like water no matter how tightly he cups his palms together. 

“I’m not throwing you away,” Yeosang says, and the finality in his tone of voice makes the back of Wooyoung’s eyes sting as tears start to well up. “I’m setting you free.” 

**SEONGJOONG VAMPIRE AU w a TWIST, vampire Seonghwa x undetermined Hongjoong (dahlia original)**

Seonghwa almost feels wistful as he surveys Hongjoong’s sleeping form, dragging his thumb from the back of Hongjoong’s ear to the dip of skin between shoulder and collarbone. The gesture is done more out of admiration than anything else, since he’s experienced enough now that he no longer has to double check where his victims’ most accessible veins are, can locate the exact point where the blood flow is strongest just by closing his eyes and listening calmly. 

Hongjoong’s skin is so warm. So _human_. He’s a pretty one, too, with lashes that curl naturally and a fairy-like nose that makes Seonghwa want to kiss the tip of it as a parting gift, or maybe an apology for what Seonghwa is about to take from him. 

The bloodlust is what clouds Seonghwa’s memory of what happens in the next few seconds. He just remembers that his fangs elongate and prick at his bottom lip, and that he’s about to puncture skin when he gets violently thrown onto his back by an unseen force. 

Then hands are at his throat, hard enough to make Seonghwa gasp for air in panic before he realizes that those hands belong to Hongjoong, who’d somehow managed to go from unconscious to awake in just a few seconds and overpower Seonghwa even though he’s human. 

He very quickly realizes Hongjoong _isn’t_ human when he feels all the energy seep out of his body, directly connected to the iron grip around his neck, and he’s powerless to fight back as his arms go limp and his head starts to roll back. 

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa manages to choke out, and he thinks Hongjoong loosens his grip, even if it’s just for a split second. A brief moment of kindness before he goes in for the kill, perhaps. “Why are you doing this?” 

“Playing nice now?” Hongjoong says. He taps what feels like a claw impatiently against Seonghwa’s jaw, like he’s waiting for the right moment to strike. “You were about to do something worse to me~” 

Seonghwa’s victims never see the hit coming, never have time to let their confusion morph into fear before they’re going limp in Seonghwa’s hold and the life slips out of them. 

But Hongjoong’s watching Seonghwa with the gaze of a predator who knows every rule inside and out to a game Seonghwa didn’t even know existed, and Seonghwa’s not sure whether it’s the terror or Hongjoong’s strength that’s making it so hard for him to catch his breath. 

“I don’t understand.” Seonghwa’s eyelids are on the verge of fluttering shut. “You’re warm, so you _have_ to be human… but you’re not.” 

“Not all monsters are cold-blooded,” Hongjoong says, eye-whites going black as he grins with fangs even longer and sharper than the ones in Seonghwa’s own mouth, and Seonghwa passes out. 

**SEONGJOONG FILM NOIR AU**

From the disdainful way Olivia describes her husband, Seonghwa fully expects Hongjoong to be a beefy, snot-nosed man in his forties with bad breath and an unsightly potbelly, topped by a complete lack of regard for his wife. As twisted as it sounds, the unattractive image Seonghwa’s built up in his head of Hongjoong makes it harder for him to feel bad about killing a man he’s never even gotten the chance to know properly. 

But when Seonghwa enters the room where the man in question is supposed to be sleeping, his heart sinks, in more ways than one. 

Hongjoong’s wide awake. 

Even worse, he’s _beautiful._ His overall frame is small, delicate without sacrificing broadness, sloping shoulders adorned by a silk sleep shirt with a collar loose enough to expose pale, golden skin. His hair’s layered and messy, but it gives him a casual, nonchalant sort of elegance, like that of a lion who’s shaken out his mane and coat and lies down to rest after making a particularly large kill. 

His wide, cat-like eyes bore into Seonghwa’s with a gaze that’s a little dull, a little amused. It’s as if he’s been waiting for Seonghwa to make an appearance, but finds no fun in Seonghwa behaving predictably now that he’s actually here to do what Hongjoong expects of him. 

Hongjoong is the first to speak. “Seonghwa, right?” 

“Hongjoong.” 

“I like the way my name sounds coming out of your mouth,” Hongjoong says offhandedly, like he may or may not mean it, and Seonghwa feels the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he shivers. 

“You’re not what I was expecting,” Seonghwa says. 

“I’m never what anyone expects,” Hongjoong says, tilting his head. “Olivia must have forgotten to tell you that her husband is just as pretty as her, but it’s not like it matters. Hardly anything she says is ever the truth or of any substance.” 

Seonghwa bites his lip. “So the stories about you getting drunk, you abusing her—” 

“I’m hardly ever home because I’m at the office at least twelve hours a day,” Hongjoong says with a wry smile. “She wants me dead for the money, although I would give it to her just as easily if she just asked.”

Hongjoong’s smile is pretty, even angelic, but it’s filled with an emptiness that pulls at Seonghwa’s heart in all the wrong ways. Seonghwa has never… been drawn to anyone like this just from hearing a few words, and his interest in Olivia seems like a dip in a pond compared to the way he feels like he’s sinking to the ocean floor just by staring into Hongjoong’s eyes. 

Hongjoong seems to know that, too, and there’s a brief flicker of fondness in his eyes before it’s back to the same empty look. 

“So put the gun down,” Hongjoong says, sweetly. “I’ll make it worth your time if you spare my life, Seonghwa.” 

**SEONGJOONG POST CONCERT SHENANIGANS**

At first, Seonghwa thinks Hongjoong’s forgotten about the promise. 

But then he sees the way Hongjoong fumbles with the key card to their hotel room, his fingers trembling ever so slightly, and Seonghwa knows the clingy, romantic act Hongjoong’s been putting on lately is just a mask for his more complex feelings hidden underneath the surface. 

“I didn’t think you were going to remember,” Seonghwa says, when they’re finally behind the privacy of closed doors and Hongjoong turns around to make eye contact with him. 

“I don’t remember the small things, maybe,” Hongjoong says. “But I remember the important stuff.” The black eyeshadow right below his waterline has smudged downwards and mixed in with his concealer, leaving his under eyes tinged with gray, but the faded makeup doesn’t make him any less gorgeous. 

Seonghwa likes all of Hongjoong’s looks. He adores Hongjoong’s slightly puffy cheeks after a particularly late night spent songwriting, loves the smoked out, charcoal burnt shadow their makeup artists will do on Hongjoong that make his eyes seem to go on forever, goes soft at the Hongjoong who’s just wiped off all of his makeup and looks so young that it makes Seonghwa want to protect him from all of the harmful things in the world. 

Seonghwa reaches out to drag his thumb lightly across the top of Hongjoong’s cheek, and Hongjoong shudders at the cool temperature of Seonghwa’s hand. 

“So tell me,” Seonghwa says. “What do you remember?” 

(“ _You’re just going to ignore the fact that I’m in love with you?_ ” Seonghwa had asked nearly eighteen months ago, just a few weeks before their planned debut. 

“ _I’m not ignoring you,_ ” Hongjoong had replied, voice panicked, palm splayed flat against Seonghwa’s chest to maintain what little distance they had between them. It had stung, to realize that Hongjoong might stop letting Seonghwa get so close because their feelings could get in the way of their careers. “ _Just… I can’t give into you right now when I haven’t secured everyone’s future yet. You know that, right?_ ”

“ _So when?_ ” Seonghwa had wanted, selfishly, to tighten his grip and sink his fingers deep enough into Hongjoong that Hongjoong wouldn’t ever be able to escape, but he’d held back because he knew how much pressure Hongjoong was under, knew that he needed to be supportive in every way possible so that Hongjoong wouldn’t suffer from any additional stress. 

“ _I’ll give in if we become successful enough to hold a concert_ ,” Hongjoong had said. “ _When that happens, I’m all yours_. _Promise._ ”) 

“I remember enough for you not to torture me like this, blockhead.” 

“I kept waiting for you to break the promise,” Seonghwa says, curling his hand around Hongjoong’s neck to pull him in. Hongjoong melts under his touch, and it makes Seonghwa’s heart soar to see Hongjoong being so open for the first time, makes Seonghwa turn irrevocably greedy for how much further Hongjoong will let him push. “I thought you would change your mind once our circumstances started to change.” 

“I don’t change my mind easily,” Hongjoong says. Their faces are close enough that their noses bump into each other, and Seonghwa can feel Hongjoong’s eyelashes fluttering as Hongjoong figures out where to rest his gaze before he looks directly into Seonghwa’s eyes. “Especially not when it comes to you.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**SEONGJOONG AT PROM**

“I’m just saying…” Hongjoong trails off, and Seonghwa eyes him warily. They’re at the department store, standing in the wide walkway that divides the men’s and women’s clothing sections. 

Seonghwa is not sure how he ended up here, shopping for prom suits with one of the most popular boys in his school. Maybe it’s because Hongjoong had made a stupid bet with his friends that he would be able to make icy, withdrawn art kid Seonghwa fall in love with him and then spectacularly failed (at least, in the public eye) and then somehow made enough stupid jokes as well as validating statements for Seonghwa to keep him around as a friend. 

And now they’re going to prom together, which is supposed to be Hongjoong’s way of making up for the harmful bet he’d placed on Seonghwa’s feelings. Seonghwa doesn’t know why Hongjoong is exerting this much effort to convey how sorry he is when it… doesn’t matter, it was just a stupid bet, and Seonghwa doesn’t really want to think about how bored and lonely he is on the days Hongjoong’s too busy with soccer practice to spend time with him. 

Seonghwa is a boy buried under a pile of unconventional interests along with everything else he’s resorted to “liking” in order to hide them, and Hongjoong is a well-adjusted guy who’s smart and sporty and handsome, with admirers constantly trailing behind him and no need for a friend like Park Seonghwa. 

“What?” Seonghwa says. “Spit it out.” 

“That if you didn’t want to wear a suit,” Hongjoong says genuinely, eyes darting over to the selection of champagne and cream colored evening gowns hanging underneath the sign that says _juniors_ before he looks back at Seonghwa with a small smile, “you would be equally pretty in a dress.” 

**SEONGJOONG ARRANGED MARRIAGE AU**

Hongjoong remains silent for the entirety of the marriage meeting until their parents finish exchanging formalities and leave him and Seonghwa alone to _get to know each other._

Like Seonghwa would have even an ounce of desire to know or understand the playboy son born into a family obsessed over expanding their power and sinking their claws deep enough to draw blood from the rest of society. Despite all the perks that come with marrying into such a wealthy, influential family, despite all the obstacles they’ll be able to hop right over for him career-wise, Seonghwa also knows that he’ll lose all sense of his identity and morals the moment he steps foot into this household. 

“You can’t possibly be happy about this arrangement,” Seonghwa says. “Marriage is—” 

“Why did you go into law?” Hongjoong interrupts, maintaining the expression of boredom that’s lingered in his face ever since he stepped into the room. With a different personality, with a different family background, in an alternate universe, Kim Hongjoong is a man Seonghwa would easily fall in love with under any other circumstances than the ones that brought them together in this life. 

“What?” 

“To make money?” Hongjoong guesses. “To be seen as a superior citizen who couldn’t be touched or approached easily? To work your way up the hierarchy?” 

“To protect those who couldn’t protect or defend themselves,” Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong’s chuckle in response quickly goes from light hearted to something much darker. 

“How unfortunate,” Hongjoong says, sounding like he almost pities Seonghwa for having ended up here, in the home of a young man who’s spent his whole life operating on the belief that it’s better to care more about himself and not at all about other people. “Right now you’re the one who can’t protect or defend himself from all the powerful people who want to hurt you. And you still want to hold onto your dignity and worry about your character, when there’s a hand outstretched towards you offering help?” 

Seonghwa lets out a shuddering sigh. “I can’t exchange my soul for a shallow sense of safety. If I married you and let your father manipulate me like a puppet, is that considered living?” 

“Is what you’re doing now considered living?” Hongjoong asks, blinking lazily. “They’re going to smother your livelihood along with everything and everyone you love in less than half a second. Have a little self-preservation, will you?” 

“Do you sleep well at night?” Seonghwa asks. “What do you have to gain from marrying me?” 

“A husband who won’t bother me or fall in love with me because they find me repulsive in every aspect of my existence,” Hongjoong says, smiling wryly. “And marrying you would mean someone to look at the night sky with me if we’re both too fucked up to sleep well ever again.” 

**MINJOONG POSTER STEALING**

Hongjoong doesn’t really think Mingi is telling the truth until multiple girls from their university approach him in the hallway to apologize for taking his handcrafted posters promoting his music performances. They explain that they’re huge fans of him and his music, and that there were so many of the pretty posters that they had assumed they were printed by the university and hadn’t realized Hongjoong would want them back. 

They also tell Hongjoong about how hard Mingi has been working to track down every single person who might have taken one, and how he goes out of his way to put the recovered posters, wrinkled as they are, back in the exact same places where Hongjoong had first taped them up. 

It presents a very different picture of Mingi, who’s usually goofy and noisy and carefree, only a few of all the qualities about him that Hongjoong typically hates in other people, and Hongjoong’s muted disdain for the oversized puppy of a man has never faded (until now) when he and Mingi are always being compared as musicians despite how different they are artistically. 

“I told you I didn’t take them,” Mingi says sourly when Hongjoong finds him to offer an apology, and that, along with the sad slope of Mingi’s big shoulders and soft pout, only adds another painful jab to the ball of guilt building at the bottom of Hongjoong’s stomach. 

“I’m very sorry I didn’t believe you,” Hongjoong says, scrunching his nose, “but I just felt like you would find amusement by pulling a prank like that since you get a kick out of annoying me.” 

“Yeah, I do stupid shit like put sticky notes all over your car and change your wallpaper to pictures of me or random animals,” Mingi says, “but I’m, like, your biggest fan. I know all of your songs and I’m probably single handedly responsible for at least half of the listens on ‘Glass Animals’ and ‘Purple Sun,’ and I would never disrespect the hard work of my favorite little musician.” 

Hongjoong’s eyes widen in surprise. He had known Mingi was vaguely aware of his work, but he’d never expected for Mingi to know the two most obscure songs posted on his soundcloud, let alone like them so much. “Favorite… musician?” 

Mingi beams at him. “Yes~” 

Then Hongjoong squints, because there’s never a completely heartfelt moment with Mingi that doesn’t include at least a bit of irritation. “Wait, _little?_ ” 

**YUNHWA with dragonhwa and human yunho boyfriend**

“I’m warm enough now, Seonghwa,” Yunho says, not really sure of how loud he’s talking from how congested he is. He’s only got a bit of a cold from overworking himself, but Seonghwa had instantly dropped all other priorities to come and take care of him as soon as he heard Yunho wasn’t feeling well. “Can you turn back now?” 

Seonghwa looks up at Yunho from where he’s got his chin rested on Yunho’s stomach, large chartreuse eyes watching Yunho’s every cough and sniffle with concern. His wings are tucked neatly behind him so that they don’t knock into any of Yunho’s wooden and ceramic knick knacks on the shelves and dresser, but Seonghwa has always been calm even when he’s human, so the only thing he needs to actively work on when he’s in dragon form is remembering how much bigger and stronger he is even when he’s being gentle. 

He growls at Yunho in disagreement. _Not warm enough_ , is what he means, and Yunho smiles. 

“But I wanna hold your hand while I sleep,” Yunho says, “and I know you’re putting only a fraction of your weight on me, but your chin’s getting heavy.” 

Seonghwa narrows his eyes before huffing an indignant breath and shifting back into his human form. He used to always shift back without any clothes on due to the nature of the process, but Hongjoong’s taught him some sort of spell recently that allows him to shift back and magically have his boxers on still. 

“Hand holding isn’t going to make your cold get better,” Seonghwa says a few seconds after clearing his throat, brows pinching together which means he’s about to unleash an entire lecture on how Yunho has failed to stay healthy. “But keeping warm—” 

Yunho always forgets that an important pro of dragon Seonghwa is that he’s incapable of nagging, but he supposes even the best parts of life come with compromise. 

“Holding your hand is going to heal my heart, though, and that will help me get rid of this cold twice as fast,” Yunho says, pouting, and from the way Seonghwa scrunches his nose in reluctant defeat and sits down on the bed to get closer, Yunho knows he’s won. 

**WOOSANG UNIVERSITY/ENEMIES TO LOVERS**

Wooyoung’s first reaction to Yeosang’s monotone confession is nervous laughter before it descends into a mixture of confusion and disbelief at the fact that the guy who’s supposed to hate him has gone and done the complete opposite. “You’re a hard person to understand sometimes, Yeosang, because your personality makes it seem like you’re not really from Earth.” 

“What’s so hard to understand about me?” Yeosang asks as he raises a perfectly groomed eyebrow. Then he bites at his lip, like he’s unsure, and Wooyoung almost does a double take at the rare display of uncertainty in Yeosang’s face. “Is this… a no to us dating?” 

“I haven’t even processed what you just said to me,” Wooyoung says, with another laugh, before he cuts it short so he doesn’t make Yeosang feel any more uncomfortable. “I didn’t think you were capable of feeling any emotion other than disapproval, so to hear that you’re romantically...interested in me is a little...” 

“It’s true that you’re an idiot a lot of the time,” Yeosang says, “and I’ve been told that I’m a little stiff, but I still get happy and sad and hopeful just like anyone else. I’m not a machine that just spits out information and does every single task I’m assigned without having an opinion on it, as hard as that is to believe.” 

“I know,” Wooyoung says, pressing his lips together. “I just… wonder what it means when you say you like me.” 

“Instead of just bickering all the time like we did in the past, I wanna hold your hand and eat dinner together and watch movies, and kiss you afterwards until your lips are bee-sting pretty, and maybe other things too,” Yeosang says, with zero hesitation, and Wooyoung gapes at him. 

“That’s clear enough, right?” Yeosang asks. He leans in close enough that their noses are just a few inches away from each other, and Wooyoung would retreat, but he’s already backed up against a wall with nowhere to go. 

“Very,” Wooyoung says, blinking rapidly as he tries to will the heat out of his cheeks. 

Yeosang looks a little...smug at how flustered Wooyoung’s become, and Wooyoung realizes Yeosang is not as boring of a character as everyone thinks he is. “I was beginning to think you were _really_ every bit as pea brained as I thought—” 

“You take that back, asshole.” Wooyoung says irritatedly before he folds his arms across his chest. Yeosang is smiling at him, now, and Wooyoung used to want to punch him, but he doesn’t really want to do that today, for some reason. “So where are you going to take me for our first date?” 

**SEONGJOONG DISNEYLAND AU**

“The green tights are your best look, I think,” Seonghwa says as Hongjoong presses in his password code on his locker and swings the door open after the familiar beep sounds. “Although any look of yours tends to make my heart beat a little faster, Peter Pan.” 

“Shut up, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong says, though without much bite. It’s almost infuriating how blurry the line is between Seonghwa’s prince-persona and his actual personality, while Hongjoong’s mischievous charm reserved for working hours shuts off as soon as he steps behind employee-only doors. “Not all of us are pretty enough to get selected for the role of Prince Charming.” 

He’s so concentrated on digging through the pile of clothes in his locker for his earphones that he completely misses Seonghwa approaching him from behind. 

“You think I’m pretty?” Seonghwa asks, mouth an inch away from Hongjoong’s ear, and Hongjoong jumps a little as he turns to face his colleague. “How come you never said so?” 

Hongjoong squints. “Are people supposed to notify you if they think you’re attractive?” 

“No, but I’ve always wanted to hear that from you,” Seonghwa says, pouting. “Did you know that if you spend more time with me, you’ll find that my heart’s even prettier?” 

Hongjoong can feel a full blown blush coming on from the way his ears are heating up. The fake flirting that happens when he’s Peter Pan and Seonghwa’s Prince Charming never really phases him, because it’s just for entertainment on long, difficult workdays, but he’s never quite sure how to respond to Seonghwa when it’s just the two of them and Seonghwa implies that Hongjoong’s opinion means a lot to him. 

“I’m sure it is,” he says eventually, and Seonghwa’s only response is to crowd him into the locker, all while making sure Hongjoong doesn’t hit his head. 

“I’m asking you out, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says, their noses almost touching, and Hongjoong’s heart feels like it’s being squeezed so hard that it’s going to burst. “Can I?” 

“I _guess_ ,” Hongjoong says, putting a hand on Seonghwa’s chest to push him back a little, and he tells Seonghwa to shut up when Seonghwa laughs at how red Hongjoong’s whole face has become. 

**SANJOONG WITCH AU**

San senses the unexpected presence long before Hongjoong arrives at the front door of San’s cottage, tucked away in a part of the forest that’s difficult to stumble upon unless you know exactly what or who you’re looking for. 

“I’m surprised I was able to make it through the multiple barriers of protection you put up without any trouble,” Hongjoong remarks. “I got a little bit of a headache by the time I reached the last one, but no bruises or cuts, thankfully.” 

San hates that some part of him still aches at the sound of Hongjoong’s voice despite the fact that they broke up three years ago, unable to overcome their differences in perspective on how to properly practice magic when San kept pushing for more unorthodox methods and Hongjoong wanted to follow well accepted traditions. 

“The runes won’t harm anyone who’s in genuine distress,” San says dryly as he turns to face the visitor in his home who’s both familiar and unfamiliar, a stranger in every aspect except for the brief past they’ve shared. Hongjoong’s hair is now dyed somewhere in between a rich maroon and a deep rusty brown, and he looks even thinner than he had been the last time they’d seen each other. “That means you’re not here to make amends. You’re here to ask for help.” 

**SEONGSAN ART THIEVES/CON-ARTISTS AU**

“They’re pretty, aren’t they?” San asks, letting his fingers run across the top edge of the framed paintings, both of them identical down to the paint stroke and technique. “One for me, one for you. We’ll be able to make a double profit before they realize there’s two circulating in the market.” 

“Sounds too good to be true,” Seonghwa says. “Who gets the real one?”

“You, if you can figure out which one it is,” San says, smiling. 

Seonghwa points to the painting on the left, and San grins at him devilishly. “As expected of a con with an education. Your authentication skills aren’t one bit rusty.” 

“Haven’t I told you a million times I’m no longer a con artist?” Seonghwa says, once San’s passed the painting into his hands. “I’m just an innocent bystander who’s got no idea who his boyfriend’s up to.” 

“And yet you chose to take the real painting,” San says. “Isn’t that ballsy of you?” 

“Not really,” Seonghwa says mildly, “considering you just handed me the fake.” 

**SEONGJOONG; foreign exchange student Seonghwa x Hongjoong**

“Dude, did you _see_ the new Korean exchange student?” Hongjoong hisses as soon as Yunho slides into the seat next to him, fashionably late as usual. 

“I just got here, Hongjoong,” Yunho says, quickly pulling his notebook and pencil box out of his bag, which is more for show than anything else since he hardly ever takes notes. “Is he in the class?” 

Hongjoong juts his chin out toward the student sitting several feet away in the row in front of them, and Yunho _ahh_ ’s in understanding once he takes in the guy’s undercut, long lean silhouette and all black outfit. “Your type, I see.” 

“Yeah,” Hongjoong says. “Dude’s got a side profile a million times better than Adonis. If he wanted to fuck me up, I would gladly let him. My body is ready to be _Obliterated_ at his mercy.” 

“You’re going to scare him off, loser,” Yunho says, laughing. “I like how you’re acting as if you’re going to jump him when you’ll most likely go the whole semester avoiding his eyes because you’re terrified of the people you’re attracted to. Not to mention you’re shit at Korean, so even if you did try to communicate, you’d only fail miserably.” 

“That’s an unwarranted attack on my character, you _dick,_ ” Hongjoong says, ready to pinch Yunho in the arm or something equally vicious before a reprimanding glance from the teacher has both of them going silent and straightening up in their seats. 

As soon as the lecture is over, Hongjoong leaves first to use the restroom before he and Yunho reconvene for lunch. That’s why, when he comes out and bumps into someone, then realizes the person isn’t moving out of the way, he assumes it’s just Yunho being annoying as usual. 

“What are you—” he starts, then abruptly stops talking when he realizes it’s Seonghwa, the exchange student, who’s smiling at him slightly. “What?” 

“You’re Hongjoong, right?” Seonghwa says, in perfect English, and Hongjoong pales. “Would you mind showing me around?” 

Hongjoong frowns, confused. He was initially nervous that Seonghwa might have overheard him in the class, but it seems like Seonghwa… hadn’t. “I thought Ryujin was assigned to help you out?” 

“She’s got club activities right now she can’t miss,” Seonghwa says, before his smile shifts into one that’s less innocent. “I thought it would be good to make the first move, since your friend said you probably wouldn’t be able to look me in the eye all semester. That’s a lot of time wasted on not getting to know each other, don’t you think?” 

Seonghwa _had_ heard, and to make matters worse, he’s got a demon personality behind that angelic face. 

“Um…” Hongjoong says, as he wonders where the nearest rock is so he can hide under it and never come out again until Seonghwa goes back to Korea. “You know, Seonghwa, it was really nice talking to you, but I think I gotta go—” 

Seonghwa wraps his fingers around Hongjoong’s wrist lightly, still smiling. Hongjoong is going to explode. “Please don’t go,” he says. “You can help me get used to living here, and I’ll help you get better at Korean. Deal?” 


	6. Chapter 6

** SEONGJOONG CUPID HONGJOONG FALLING FOR SEONGHWA  **

The tears fall before Hongjoong even registers the wetness on his cheeks, and he hurriedly wipes at his eyes even though Seonghwa’s gaze is steady on him and there’s no point in trying to conceal anguish that’s so obvious. 

The photo of the girl who has a crush on Seonghwa is in the back pocket of Hongjoong’s jeans. All Hongjoong has to do is show it to Seonghwa, do his usual rearranging of the strings of fate, and wait for Seonghwa’s love troubles to unravel themselves. 

But Hongjoong wants to be selfish for once, even if it’s against the rules, even if Seonghwa isn’t his to take. 

“What’s wrong?” Seonghwa asks. His eyes are filled with kindness, just like the rest of him, and Hongjoong is so sad. 

“Everyone asks Cupid to help them find their one true love,” Hongjoong says, shuddering quietly. “But no one ever asks Cupid whether he’s found his.” 

** SEONGJOONG supernatural AU w medium joong  **

“Don’t you think it’s fate that brought us together?” Hongjoong asks, fluttering his eyelashes innocently at Seonghwa from across the table, and Seonghwa sighs. He doesn’t know why he ended up entangled with a weird psychic-but-definitely-not-a-shaman Hongjoong, who’s made it clear enough that they’re not really friends, but at the very least, he knows the reason “fate” keeps bringing them together is because Hongjoong keeps calling to demand they meet up. 

“If fate comes in the form of a bossy redhead with a purple fur coat and silver-toed boots,” Seonghwa says, licking his lips, “then yeah, I agree with you.” 

Hongjoong ignores the remark and just says, “We’re almost like… soulmates, you know? Two people who share the rare burden of being able to see spirits. Two aliens who understand each other in a society that doesn’t understand us.” 

“You’re the one who opened my third eye by force,” Seonghwa points out, which makes Hongjoong grin at him sheepishly, before he uses his chopsticks to drop an extra large piece of chicken into Seonghwa’s plate as an apology. “...So it’s not so much as soulmates as you just dragging me down with you.” 

“It was lonely, before,” Hongjoong says, and his face falls a little. “I spent my whole life learning how to control the ability, spent years trying before I could turn it off by will so that I could sleep. My mom left me in the hopes that it would cut off my abilities from developing, but I ended up both abandoned and cursed.” 

He chuckles a little, the sound airy and light, as if he’s sealing off the brief sliver of vulnerability he’d let slip in front of a not-friend, not-stranger. 

“I guess I don’t have anything to complain about, then,” Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong looks up at him with wide eyes. “Seeing as I have you.” 

** SEONGJOONG college AU w a smitten, rocker hwa x tired joong **

Seonghwa’s leather jacket squeaks noisily as he settles into the open seat next to Hongjoong. “Are you still not following my band’s Instagram account?” 

“Did I agree to do something silly like that?” Hongjoong asks, not looking up from his laptop. “You’re doing well enough with your…” he takes his attention off of his screen long enough to open up Instagram on his phone and check Seonghwa’s profile stats. “...nine hundred and ninety-nine followers, are you not?” 

“You could be my very special milestone follower,” Seonghwa suggests lightly, then whines in protest as Hongjoong puts his phone away without another word. “Aw c’mon. Are you busy?” 

Hongjoong wants to scowl, but when he turns to look at Seonghwa, he realizes Seonghwa’s giving him the Puppy Look he always uses whenever Hongjoong’s been a little too mean, and Hongjoong bites back the irritation so that his voice doesn’t come out as harsh. He’d thought that Seonghwa would forget about Hongjoong not following his rock band’s Instagram soon enough, but Seonghwa has brought it up at least three times since the first time he mentioned it, so Hongjoong will most likely follow the account later. Just not right now, because he doesn’t want to see Seonghwa’s gloating face. 

“Yes, I’m busy,” Hongjoong says as gently as possible so that Seonghwa stops looking at him with wide, shiny eyes. “I’m in the library, drowning in a pile of textbooks and lecture notes with three empty cups of coffee next to me. What does it look like?” 

“Relax a little,” Seonghwa says. He pulls at Hongjoong’s sleeve, before directing his attention elsewhere and brushing back Hongjoong’s hair so that he can see what earrings Hongjoong has on today. “Sparkly. Are the dangly drop earrings new?” 

“Yes,” Hongjoong replies, his fingers pausing on the keyboard yet again. “My mom got them for me.”

“Why haven’t you worn the ones I got you, then?” Seonghwa asks. “Those are pretty, too, and they would match your glasses—” 

“You’re not going to let me focus, are you?” Hongjoong asks with narrowed eyes, and Seonghwa grins at him. 

“Focus on me, please,” Seonghwa says, with his cutesy voice. Hongjoong’s going to hit him so hard Seonghwa falls out of his chair. “I’m so much more interesting~” 

** SEONGJOONG DOCTORS AU  **

“You’re still here?” Hongjoong asks, when he realizes Seonghwa is continuing to linger at the doorway of his office even though they’ve exchanged their formalities as newly established colleagues and Seonghwa has already introduced himself to the majority of the doctors and residents who were on shift. 

Seonghwa crosses his arms over his chest. “Are you married?” 

Hongjoong bites at his lip so hard the pain is all he can think about, so that he doesn’t have to look at Seonghwa and subject himself to the painful nostalgia of their memories together that will inevitably flash through his mind as soon as they make eye contact. Seonghwa’s mere presence is upsetting enough, because it reminds Hongjoong of a time when he was too young and too foolish and too passionate, of a time where he was faithful enough to risk everything for the sake of one person and believe that their love would last forever. 

“Does it matter?” Hongjoong replies, and he sighs as he spots Seonghwa stepping closer towards him out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t think someone who broke my heart into a million pieces has the privilege to ask that question.” 

** WOOSAN VAMPIRE HUNTERS  **

“You _idiot_ ,” San hisses the second the muting spell wears off, and Wooyoung gapes at him. 

“How am _I_ the idiot?” Wooyoung asks indignantly. It’s not a very nice use of San’s first two words, considering Wooyoung had been the one to get them to a safer part of the forest before they got any more injuries. “I’m the one who saved you from imminent peril!” 

“You’re also the one who took a shortcut without realizing it would take us through fairy territory. Even worse, they were _lichen_ fairies,” San says. “How would we have hunted down any vampires if they’d chosen to use their semi-permanent blinding glitter on us, dumbass?” 

** SEONGJOONG GISAENG AU  **

“Aren’t you cold?” 

With an exasperated sigh, Hongjoong pulls his deep red, translucent _jeogori_ closed and fastens the bow that falls across it diagonally so his underlayer of garments and chest are no longer exposed. “Why do you keep visiting and requesting my company if you have no interest in me?” 

For two months, Seonghwa has visited Hongjoong at the gisaeng house nearly every other day without so much as an attempt to make advances on Hongjoong or any of the other gisaengs. The first time Seonghwa had visited, it’d been with a group of other men, but he’d been quiet and withdrawn in the sea of boisterous conversation and laughter, and Hongjoong’s gaze had zeroed in on how much of an outsider the too-pretty officer seemed to be despite all the authority and respect of his peers he’d possessed. 

Nowadays, he comes alone. Usually when it’s not too busy, even if Hongjoong’s high up enough that he’s chosen Seonghwa as a top priority client who he can attend to regardless of the time of day. On the days Seonghwa isn’t working, he shows up in darker casual clothes, robes made of rich, weighted fabrics and a intricate mask that covers the lower half of his face, made of translucent gossamer silk and small jewels that glimmer with every turn of his face. 

His features strike a bewitching balance between delicate and angular, and his quiet arrival always makes the gisaengs stop gossiping immediately, subdued by the beauty of the unconventional regular who’s nothing like their other customers. 

He never drinks too much, doesn’t eat a whole lot either, just prods Hongjoong into easy conversation until Hongjoong forgets what their relationship is and reveals a little too much of his real, less refined personality, to which Seonghwa only smiles at softly. He doesn’t try to kiss Hongjoong, and the only time he’s ever initiated physical contact between them is when he thought Hongjoong was going to slip and held onto Hongjoong’s waist as a protective measure. 

Boring. One of these days Hongjoong’s going to show up in his regular clothes and no makeup; it’ll probably get a bigger reaction out of Seonghwa. 

“I’m very interested in you,” Seonghwa says, but he delivers it in such a plain tone of voice that he might as well be describing the weather. “Why else would I be here so often?” 

“You never touch me,” Hongjoong remarks in faux-nonchalance, dragging a finger up Seonghwa’s arm. “I’m not to your taste?” 

“Ah,” Seonghwa says, lightly lifting Hongjoong’s hand and putting it back into Hongjoong’s lap. “It’s not that.” 

“Or is it because I’m not worth touching?” Hongjoong asks, quietly. “You always deflect my invitations.” 

“No,” Seonghwa says. “Definitely not that. Please don’t misunderstand.” 

Hongjoong bites at his lip. “Then why?” 

“You’re not obligated to offer me anything you don’t want to do,” Seonghwa says. A muscle in his jaw tenses. “I just like seeing you smile and listening to you chatter away about topics you’re interested in. I’m just a customer, so—” 

“Just a customer?” Hongjoong echoes, narrowing his eyes. “I never look this pretty for anyone else.” 

Seonghwa blinks at him. “I don’t understand.” 

“I don’t glue crushed up jewels to my eyes for drunk old men,” Hongjoong says, annoyed, and Seonghwa’s surprised enough by the outburst that he lets Hongjoong crawl halfway into his lap without any protest, hands coming up reflexively to hold Hongjoong steady so that Hongjoong doesn’t lose his balance and fall. Seonghwa’s even prettier up close, like this, and Hongjoong can see his own reflection in Seonghwa’s wide eyes. “But I do it because you like when my eyes are sparkly, and I always wear red because you told me it’s one of your favorite colors. So hurry up and get that I’m okay with whatever you want to do to me, you colossal _idiot._ ” 

** SEONGJOONG GISAENG AU SWITCHED UP w gisaeng hwa  **

Hongjoong isn’t sure whether it’s the strangely familiar singing or the pain in his lower abdomen that fully wakes him up. Maybe both, but he’s still disoriented as he uses his elbows to try and prop himself up, dizziness catching up with him seconds later to make his vision swim dangerously before two firm palms push at his chest to make him lie back down. 

Then he realizes he’s not lying down on cold, muddy ground in the forest where he’d passed out last night after being attacked by a group of relentless, masked men who’d been pursuing the June Messenger. Hongjoong’s covered in thick, warm blankets from the chest down, and the tightness around his waist is because someone’s tended to his wounds and wrapped extensive bandages to protect them. 

There’s a dull throb at the back of his head, and Hongjoong winces as he tries to get his words out. “Where…” 

“Relax,” a velvety voice says near his ear, and panic flares up in Hongjoong because he _recognizes_ that voice. 

Seonghwa is watching him quietly when Hongjoong finally opens his eyes, his hand resting on top of Hongjoong’s chest like he’s afraid Hongjoong will try to get up again. 

It’s an understandable concern, because Hongjoong shouldn’t be here, and his first instinct is to bolt. He’s not sure how he got here or who now knows of his secret identity since he was moved between locations in his unconsciousness. He’s even more puzzled by the fact that he’d ended up in Seonghwa’s personal quarters in the kingdom’s most famous gisaeng house (based on a quick scan around the room), under the care of a highly regarded gisaeng who only knows Hongjoong as a detached, easygoing officer with ambiguous loyalty and even more ambiguous morals. 

It’s the first time Hongjoong’s seeing Seonghwa out of his “work” clothes. Seonghwa’s dressed in a plain, blue-gray colored robe that accentuates the leanness of his silhouette, the top section of his hair tied back into a long ponytail and his face completely free of makeup. He’s still so...pretty, with his large, thoughtful eyes that hardly ever reveal what he’s thinking, and his small but full lips that are usually concealed with makeup to give them a smaller shape. It’s a shame Hongjoong feels like he’s half dying; otherwise he’d be able to appreciate this look a lot more. 

“Ah, Seonghwa—” Hongjoong says, forcing his usual lighthearted tone of voice before Seonghwa immediately cuts him off. 

“It makes sense, that you act like you don’t care about anything so that no one suspects you’re the June Messenger,” Seonghwa says. 

“No,” Hongjoong says, mildly, grasping at straws in case he can still fool Seonghwa into believing otherwise. “I think you’re mistaken—” 

“Don’t pretend in front of me,” Seonghwa says. “I’d thought it was strange that you would visit, yet you avoided touching any of the girls no matter how many times they approached you. It’s because you always had fresh wounds.” 

Hongjoong laughs weakly in defeat, feeling oddly vulnerable now that he knows Seonghwa’s seen the rest of the cuts and scars on his body. “I was under the impression you didn’t like me, but you pay a lot more attention to me than I thought.” 

Seonghwa frowns, before patting Hongjoong lightly on the cheek, a gentle reprimanding gesture to show his displeasure. “If I didn’t like you, would I have risked my own life and dragged you from where you were bleeding all over the forest floor into my personal quarters?” 

“How did you find me?” Hongjoong asks. “...Who are you, really?” 

“That’s a story for another day,” Seonghwa replies, ignoring the pout that Hongjoong directs at him. “For now, sleep.” 

** SEONGJOONG HURT/COMFORT **

Seonghwa’s mind is blank even as Hongjoong herds him into the shower, nagging at Seonghwa to take off his clothes and get under the hot water quickly so that he doesn’t catch a cold from how long he’d been sitting in the rain. The only thing he has enough energy to pay attention to is how gentle Hongjoong’s hands are, even if Hongjoong’s palms are calloused and rough and not delicate at all. 

Once Hongjoong leaves, Seonghwa rinses himself off long enough to get rid of the chill that’s settled deep underneath his skin, then dries himself off before he puts on the clothes Hongjoong’s left for him on top of the hamper, which consist of an oversized racing t-shirt that looks to be from Hongjoong’s high school days and a pair of soft black sweatpants that end right at Seonghwa’s ankles. On Hongjoong, the sweatpants would probably reach the floor, and that thought makes Seonghwa chuckle to himself as he shuts off the bathroom light and opens the door. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Hongjoong asks, when Seonghwa steps out into the living room. There’s a small towel draped around his neck, presumably from him drying his own hair while Seonghwa was in the shower, and Seonghwa isn’t sure what compelled Hongjoong to take care of him this time when they’ve never really had a conversation that doesn’t end in an argument or some sort of stand off. 

(Though that’s more due to Hongjoong refusing to admit they’re attracted to each other no matter how many times Seonghwa pushes him for real answers, even when they’ve kissed each other too many times for it to be just curiosity or boredom.) 

“Not really,” Seonghwa replies. Verbalizing what’s hurting him would only force him to experience the pain and discomfort of today’s events a second time, so without another word, he crawls on top of Hongjoong and kisses Hongjoong on the mouth. 

“Hey,” Hongjoong says, pulling away eventually. It’s not a rejection, because his hands are steady on either side of Seonghwa’s waist, and Seonghwa’s gaze drops to the slight flush that’s washed over what he can see of Hongjoong’s neck and collarbones. “None of that. Use your words, Seonghwa—” 

“You never use yours, so let me do the same for once,” Seonghwa says. “Unless you want to talk about why you’re still ‘dating’ your girlfriend when I’m the one you’re making out with behind closed doors?” 

Hongjoong rolls his eyes, irritated, and Seonghwa grins at him, momentarily distracted from everything that’s hurting him right now as he revels at the man who can never win against him. “Do as you please, then,” Hongjoong says, and he doesn’t put up a fight when Seonghwa closes the distance between them to suck Hongjoong’s lower lip into his mouth. 

** SEONGJOONG college AU ft. insomnia and implied switch tendencies  **

When Hongjoong opens the door, it’s clear that he’d been asleep right before Seonghwa had knocked. His hair’s sticking out in all directions, not tied in its usual half ponytail, and his gaze hasn’t sharpened the way it does whenever he’s fully awake and paying close attention to conversations to see what information he can stockpile for later. He’s not wearing a shirt, and that offers Seonghwa a rare, unrestricted view of all the tattoos on Hongjoong’s arms and chest and rib cage. 

Hongjoong takes one look at Seonghwa’s sleeping clothes and the bag hanging off of Seonghwa’s shoulder before he makes a sleepy noise of understanding. His voice is soft as he asks, “Your insomnia acting up again?” 

“Yeah,” Seonghwa says. “Can I sleep with you?” 

“No,” Hongjoong says, prickly humor trickling back in now that he’s starting to wake up, but contrary to his words, he grabs a fistful of Seonghwa’s t-shirt and pulls him into the room. 

“Don’t blame me if I jump you in my sleep,” Hongjoong says in warning a few minutes later, even as he’s tucking Seonghwa in and brushing Seonghwa’s bangs out of his face. Seonghwa’s heart squeezes uncomfortably at the kindness of a man who likes to pretend he doesn’t care about anything or anyone when it’s actually the complete opposite. “You crawled into the lion’s den of your own volition~” 

“You never attack me when I’m having trouble sleeping,” Seonghwa says, closing his eyes. “And you’re the one who’s defenseless right now.” 

“Because I’m not wearing a shirt?” Hongjoong asks, his laugh dismissive as he turns off the light and crawls underneath the blankets to join Seonghwa. “You’re an herbivore.” 

Instead of replying, Seonghwa snuggles close enough that he’s within easy reach of Hongjoong’s neck before sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin there in an unrelenting bite, and Hongjoong hisses in pain. “Ow, _fuck._ What was that for?” 

“Just so you know, I’m not an herbivore,” Seonghwa says calmly. There might be marks tomorrow from how rough the bite had been, so he kisses at the same place in a truce, then curls his arm around Hongjoong’s waist. “I’m well behaved. There’s a difference.” 

** SEONGJOONG AU, w crossdresser joong n unconditional love  **

Hongjoong plucks at his fishnets absentmindedly. There are stray flecks of iridescent glitter all over his hands and legs, which he knows aren’t going to wash out for weeks if at all, even if they’ll be barely noticeable under his fairly unremarkable outfits during the day. 

Not like any of that matters. The illusion has shattered, and Seonghwa most likely won’t want to see Hongjoong again after tonight. Hongjoong should have known better than to try and keep up false appearances in the hopes that he would get to keep someone as unreal as Seonghwa for longer. 

“It’s weird, right?” Hongjoong asks. “Seeing me like this.” 

_ Seeing your supposedly innocent, goodie-two-shoes boyfriend working at a bar in a faux leather skirt and fishnet stockings and makeup,  _ he doesn’t say. _Living a whole other life he never told you about._

“Like what?” Seonghwa reaches out to grab Hongjoong’s hand, but Hongjoong doesn’t let him. “Hey. Why are you mad? I was worried about you, and then I see you getting harrassed by some drunkard—” 

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” Hongjoong says. Drunk, old men who can’t take a hint are a nuisance but not much of a threat when they have Yunho and Mingi, who are highly trained bodyguards hired to deal with belligerent customers and break some fingers if ever necessary, so Hongjoong is lucky enough to not ever really feel like he’s in danger. 

The bigger issue is that Hongjoong’s image, which he’s worked so meticulously, so painstakingly to construct so that Seonghwa wouldn’t ever find a reason to leave him, has been blown to pieces because of one unexpected encounter, and he doesn’t really feel like watching the affection fade out of Seonghwa’s eyes. 

Eyes on the ground in front of him, Hongjoong goes on to say, “Now you’re going to break up with me nicely by saying you don’t think you’re the right person for me, and then you’re going to do something sweet tomorrow like send me a parting gift which is only going to break my heart even harder—” 

“Uh, _no_.” Seonghwa steps closer, and then warmth encompasses Hongjoong’s cheek as Seonghwa cups his face, palms large enough to take up major real estate. “I’m not going to do that. You look very pretty like this, a little tired, but I’m definitely not going to break up with you, my silly little fox. Get the rest of your things, I’m driving you home.” 

Hongjoong finally looks up at Seonghwa, who’s smiling at him gently. “Home?”

“My place,” Seonghwa says. “If that’s okay with you?” 

“Why?” Hongjoong exhales shakily. “Why are you being so nice to me? When I’m nothing like you expected in reality?” 

“Because I love you,” Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong’s heart stutters, “and obviously you’ve got a lot of weight on your shoulders that you were too scared to let me know you were even carrying. I’m not going to make you talk about difficult things in uncomfortable clothes with dried mascara on your cheeks, so we can talk about it later, if you want, when you’ve showered and changed into my hamburger t-shirt, which I always keep clean for you. How does that sound?”

“Too good to be true,” Hongjoong says, sniffling, but when Seonghwa extends his hand, Hongjoong gingerly takes it. 


End file.
